Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines: 10 years later
by Marcus Gaudry
Summary: LaCroix is dead. L.A. is run by the Anarchs in a Barony system. For ten years they have lived in relative peace. Now a new threat is on the horizon. Follow threads of 7 "PC" characters as they deal with this new threat in their own ways. (Note: based on characters in VTMB, and some of the game continuity appears in an altered state as a backstory.)
1. Chapter 9

Tyler (the Brujah):

"God dammit, Nines," Damsel scowled. "Why do I always get the damned sentry duty? Tyler here is still pretty much a newbie, so that's fair, but why don't you put Skelter or Fenris outside once in awhile?"

Nines Rodriguez glanced knowingly at Tyler; who simply shrugged and put his hands up, palms facing Nines, as if to say he wanted no part of this discussion. Tyler had no problem taking sentry; it meant he didn't have to sit inside and listen to Isaac Abrams make yet another stuffy speech that sounded a lot like Cammie crap. He knew that whatever he had to say was probably important, but that didn't change how suffocating it was inside the Asian Theatre Abrams loved so much. As for Damsel; well, her passion, which Tyler loved her for, pretty much demanded that she sit this sort of thing out. She was better off when there was something to do than something to talk about. Nines hated politics, everyone knew that. But he was good at it, as little as he liked to admit it. That was pretty much why he was named Baron of Downtown L.A. after LaCroix blew himself up – with a little help from a few of the neonates he was trying to kill off.

"Really, Damsel," Nines replied with that Oklahoma calm of his. "I thought I was doing right by you. Trust me; this b-s would bore you to tears."

Damsel looked into the theatre; Tyler followed her gaze. Just about every kindred in the L.A. Baronies were in there. Fenris was sitting with Skelter, looking bored and tapping her foot. Marko was sitting with Therese Vorman, Baroness of Santa Monica. Janette wasn't here; just as well. That Malkavian had an even harder time sitting still than either Damsel or Fenris. Marko burst out laughing and quickly silenced himself under the Baroness' disapproving glare. Tyler couldn't see Gary Gold, but that didn't mean anything. That Nosferatu was nowhere and everywhere at the same time all the time. In fact, the only visible Sewer Rat was Ajax, one of the 'newbies'. Imalia was probably here, but hidden like the Cleopatra she is. On one of wings of the balcony, Strauss sat with his apprentice Tabetha and that Ventrue dick Cameron (he was called 'Cammie' at the Last Round and at Confessions). It was rare to see Tabetha at all anymore; almost as rare as it was to see Strauss. Cameron was always around, like a growth of mushrooms you can never get rid of. The three of them were obviously pushing for a Camarilla revival; not that it was going to happen. As it was, Strauss accepted Nines as Baron and afterwards focused most of his attention on 'Tremere matters'. Cameron somehow managed to buy out the Empire hotel, which was now the Cameron Hotel. What was it with Ventrue and the love they have for their own name, anyway?

"Fine," Damsel said finally. "I'm likely to start cracking skulls like fortune cookies if I stay in here anyway. Come on, Tyler. We're on guard duty."

"Yes, Den Mother," Tyler said with dramatic fervor.

Damsel stopped to glance over her shoulder. A playful grin touched the corners of her mouth. "Watch that lip of yours, newbie," she mock warned. "Or I might have to bruise it."

Tyler took one final glance inside on his way out, and caught Isaac greeting each Kindred with is customary "Evening, evening," greeting. Predictably enough, Velvet and Xavier were front row centre; just barely keeping their hands off each other. For a moment, Tyler wondered if Velvet would remember that this was a crowd it was best to keep her clothes on for.

Fenris (the Gangrel):

As Isaac Abrams, the Toreador Baron of Hollywood did his grandstanding and greetings, Fenris caught Damsel and Tyler leaving the theatre. It was probably because Nines put them on guard duty, but even that would be better than being stuck in here. Then again, Nines was a sharp guy; he probably sensed she just might bolt out of the city. Being cooped up like this was driving her batty. Each passing night, it seemed more and more like Beckett was right.

"You gettin' itchy feet, girl?" Skelter asked.

"What?"

"Itchy feet," Skelter repeated. "Hearing the call of the wild; feeling the blood calling you out into the open spaces and out the concrete jungle. It happens to all of us Gangrel from time to time; even me."

"Then why are here?" Fenris asked. "Why don't we get out of here and go to the places where we belong?"

"Why do you think I claimed all of Long Beach for the Gangrel Clan, girl?"

"I know that, Skelter," Fenris replied. "And that's great. But if the open is where we belong, if it's in our blood, then it's in our nature. Being here, in the city, is against our nature."

Skelter put his hand up to silence her. "We'll talk about that after we hear Isaac out, alright?"

That was fair. Fenris said nothing, but only nodded her agreement.

Marko (the Malkavian):

_"She doesn't remember."_

As Baroness Therese stood to accept Baron Isaac's greeting with an appropriate smile and handshake accompanied with a reciprocal greeting, someone on the Network gave Marko a hint. He looked at her and watched as she waved in acknowledgement to Strauss, Tabetha and Cameron on the balcony and sat down all prim and proper. It was clear to Marko that the Network was right again. Therese had completely forgotten that she and Janette were the same person, Janette knew, he knew, but somehow Therese had convinced herself they were sisters again; working together to rule Santa Monica as a secret alliance and pretending to bicker constantly.

Marko couldn't help it; he burst out laughing.

Therese Vorman snapped her head to glare at him. "Is something funny, Marko?" She asked with her obsessively perfect enunciation. Marko immediately stopped laughing, and apologized. He took a quick glance around the theatre to search out something to use as an excuse for his outburst; her amnesia was too priceless not to make use of later.

"It's just that I don't think I've ever seen VV in actual clothing before."

Therese craned her neck to look to the front row where Velvet Velour and the Toreador neonate sat, struggling to keep their hands off each other. She straightened out the seams of her business suit.

"That little black dress barely qualifies," she criticised. "But you're right; it is rare to see her in anything more than lingerie. Still, just because I...tolerate your fornications with my sister does not mean I abide such antics here. We are here in an official capacity."

"My voices and I understand perfectly, Baroness."

"Good," Therese nodded, adjusted her spectacles. "Also, I need you here to glean whatever you can about the other Kindred."

_"Cleopatra loves the Chinatown cleaner."_

_"The student knows; the teacher doesn't."_

_"Wolf-girl has itchy feet."_

"Ajax and Imalia are lovers. Tabetha is keeping a secret from Strauss; I don't know what. Fenris wants to leave the city." Mark told her what the Network told her.

_"Here comes trouble!"_

"Trouble is coming this way. I don't what. Maybe that's what Isaac called us for."

Ajax (the Nosferatu):

Keeping to the shadows himself, Ajax slid into position within the darkness provided in the corner of the theatre where he knew Imalia was standing; obfuscated, of course. She came out of obfuscate to clutch his hand.

"I can't believe that Gary is making me be here in person for this!" She whispered in a near-snarl. "Isn't it bad enough I have to keep an eye on this crappy part of town, watching all these empty-headed, no talent losers bask in the spotlight?"

"You're here because you know Hollywood better than any of us –except maybe Gary himself." Ajax countered as gently as he could. "Besides, if you think you've got it bad; I got to deal with all these assholes directly on a nightly basis."

For a moment, Imalia was silent. "I didn't think of that," she said finally; "sorry. That reminds me; any idea what this is supposed to be about? It bothers Gary that he hasn't been able to find out."

"Yeah," Ajax said. "I think it might be about some kind of kiddie-porn racket that's trying to set up shop all over the state. It's been real hush-hush. Isaac only caught it before we did because of his connections. So far it's all rumor, like most things with the Toreador; and the thing is, and I just found out tonight that Isaac thinks it might be connected to some kind of Snake-Cult."

"S-S-Setites?" Imalia stuttered when she asked, and pulled her hand out of his. That was a new one to Ajax. Imalia sounded scared.

"Yeah, that was it," Ajax confirmed. "Why?"

"Oh, shit!" she hissed. "I got to go and tell Gary now. You stay and find out if this is true. I hope not, 'cause if it is, shit is about to hit the fan."

Before Ajax could say anything else, Imalia was gone.

Xavier (the Toreador):

Isaac Abrams was a pretty good actor in his own right, Xavier had to admit. He wasn't Ash Rivers or Gary Golden, but he could hold up appearances as well as most and better than some. Though Xavier himself was no actor, he knew a thing or two about winning performances. Before his embrace, he was a musician. Since then, once all the hullaballoo over that stupid box was said and done and that son of a bitch LaCroix blew himself up with it, Xavier tried to get back into the scene, but found he couldn't. The songs inside him had dried up; as if they withered with his soul as a result of his embrace. Both VV and Isaac told him this was known to happen from time to time; even with the Toreador Clan. As a kind of consolation and reward for his role in the removal of LaCroix, Isaac offered him the title deed to Ash's old club, the Asp Hole. As Xavier found a form of solace in the fact that though he couldn't make music, he could scout out talent, he changed the club into a music venue he called the Pit. Here he showcased talent he discovered, offering the Kine an opportunity to catch a break in Hollywood. He also took on a local band called Ebola Cereal as a House Band.

You wouldn't know it to look at him, but for the past week Isaac had been a hair away from Frenzy. It was a week ago that he first heard rumor that a group called Setites, or the Followers of Set, were setting up a child pornography ring, and aiming to base this operation in L.A. The exploitation of children is abominable even to most Malkavians, but it was an intolerable offense to Isaac. Even VV was handling this news better than he was. She seemed more worried than angry; bless her heart. Where Isaac was concerned with stopping these Setites, VV wanted to save the children.

"VV, may I ask a question?"

VV hummed consent.

"Who are these Setites, anyway?"

For a moment, VV looked confused; like she couldn't believe that Xavier wouldn't know. "Of course; I keep forgetting how young you still are. The Setites are...corrupters. They worship an Ancient Egyptian Antediluvian named Set. They say he is...the Set of the Egyptian mythology...the god of darkness and storms. They seek to... corrupt the world into a state of depravity for their founder and rule at his side when he arises from Torpor."

Xavier blinked. "Are they a part of the Sabbat?"

"No," she replied. "As far as I'm concerned...they're worse. Where the Sabbat seeks our outright destruction, the Serpents are out to ruin our lives and enslave us. I'd rather meet final death...than go through that...again."

Xavier thought it best not to ask what she meant by 'again'. It was obvious that it was something she didn't want to talk about; maybe from her former life as Susan. Instead, he cupped her cheek in his hand and brushed her temple with his thumb.

"I don't plan on letting either happen to you, lover." He said.

VV smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "You're always so good to me," she purred. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

Tabetha (the Tremere):

From her vantage point above, Tabetha watched the gathering of Kindred in the Asian Theatre she had liberated from the Gargoyle ten years ago. Though Isaac thanked her profusely at the time, she was really acting in service to her Clan and to her mentor, Maximilian Strauss; as she was now. Isaac was greeting everyone in the audience personally, though he missed Ajax and Imalia; Imalia who appeared and disappeared again almost immediately. On an errand for Strauss a few years back, Tabetha happened on the two Nosferatu cuddling in one of the mausoleums in the Hollywood graveyard. Out of respect for Ajax, she kept this sight to herself. Also, the thought of those two making her out made her shudder.

"Is something disturbing you, my apprentice?" Strauss asked in his cold, detached way. He was a good teacher, but always so impersonal. He never used her real name.

"It's nothing, master." Tabetha replied, waving back to Isaac from a distance.

"What may seem insignificant to you may be of utmost importance, apprentice," Strauss reminded her.

Tabetha quickly scanned the room for something out of the ordinary and couldn't really find anything; Damsel stomping away with Tyler in tow, Fenris and Skelter looking bored as ever, Marko doing his best to behave under Therese's disapproving glare, Velvet and Xavier making every effort to not be total whores with each other. Isaac was high strung, but putting on a convincing air of calm. Everything else seemed normal; Tabetha saw no alternative but to tell her mentor what she knew. In her mind she apologized to Ajax.

"It has recently come to my attention that Ajax and Imalia are," Tabetha hesitates to find the right words, sighed. "They are having relations."

Cameron groaned in disgust from Strauss' other flank. "Thanks for sharing, Tabetha," he said. "Now I can't unsee that image."

Strauss turned his cold gaze over to Cameron. Without looking, Tabetha knew that even the swagger that Cameron liked to walk and talk with would falter under the gaze of her master. "Indeed, neonate, it is an unsettling image to consider."

Tabetha suppressed her grin; but only barely. It was good to know that Strauss regarded her with an actual title as opposed to simply as a 'neonate'. Strauss had turned his attention back to her.

"We shall discuss your reasons for not informing me of this immediately later, my apprentice." Strauss said with a subtle change in his tone that suggested he was not impressed with her little secret. "For now, we have a different lesson to review; why all the details are important. After the fall of LaCroix and by default the Camarilla in this city, Gary the Nosferatu Primogen declared his Clan neutral, and even went so far as to refuse to take a Barony, even though Chinatown was offered. If those two are lovers, and you are on good terms with Ajax, then perhaps you could convince him that clan Nosferatu should re-align themselves with the Camarilla."

Tabetha brightened. "Then Ajax could convince Imalia, and we have two voices in Gary's ear!"

"Very good, my apprentice," Strauss said.

"I'll get on it." Tabetha said, just as Therese waved politely to them. "Come to think of it, Bertram Tung is still in good with Janette, and Therese will likely be open to a Camarilla revival anyway..."

"Your sire chose you well, my apprentice," Strauss nodded slightly. "It's unfortunate he did not do so in accordance to our laws."

"Hey," Cameron chimed in, "Mitnick and I are pretty tight. I should be able to get him on board, too."

"Excellent, neonate," Strauss said without looking at him. "See that you do."

Cameron (the Ventrue):

Strauss was both right and wrong about Chinatown. It was true that Gary didn't officially claim Chinatown, but with the amount of operations he had going on there, he might as well have. The way Cameron figured it, with Mitnick's help, there was no reason he couldn't play things out so he could claim it for himself. Sure, he wasn't the most popular Kindred in L.A., but just about everybody owed him something. Cameron believed that if he timed everything just right, Chinatown would be his soon enough, and then the Camarilla would have a real foothold in L.A. That was more than what Strauss was doing. From there, he could lead the Camarilla back to their rightful place in the city; and there would be nothing Nines or Isaac could do about it.

* * *

Authors' note: This introduction is intended to introduce the "PC" characters. If you have a favorite, by all means feel free to let me know.

Chapter 2

Tyler

Tyler had to hand it to his brother from another mother, Fat Larry. Ever since he handled that briefcase issue regarding the Tong for the fat guy, his truck had become a very handy resource. For a human, Larry had a way of getting some wicked toys; like these modified rifles that could take phosphorous shells. Larry didn't know it, but these were called 'Dragon's Breath' among the Kindred. Getting tagged by one of these shells was like being shot with a bolt of fire; bad news if you're undead.

Before coming down to Hollywood for Isaac's announcement, Tyler grabbed a couple of these babies; one for himself and one for Damsel. He figured Nines would put them on sentry duty; it made sense to put folks where their strengths lie. If anybody came too close, he and Damsel had it covered. For a better vantage point, they both took position on the outer veranda that wrapped around the theatre; each watching from opposite sides of the building.

It was quiet. So quiet that Tyler didn't like it. He could see nothing to cause alarm, but it felt wrong out here. He reasoned it could be boredom that was making him edgy. From his vantage point, he could peer inside and see the Cammies; Strauss talking to his little student, and that Ventrue dick, who was situated closest to where Tyler was positioned. Tyler grinned as he trained the scope of his rifle at the side of Cameron's head. It would be such an easy shot... But no, it wasn't worth the ammo or the trouble; at least not tonight.

He pulled back and turned just in time to see Damsel approach form around the corner; rifle slung over shoulder and a slight curve touching the corners of her mouth. It was unlike Damsel to shirk duty like this, but even he could get bored, he supposed.

"You're getting bored too?" Tyler asked, reaching for a deck of smokes from his breast pocket.

The second that Damsel was close enough, he slight grin changed to a definite scowl as her free hand flashed from behind her back and plunged a wooden stake deep into his chest, piercing his heart. The last thing Tyler saw before slipping into a torpid state was Damsel grinning lightly as she hefted her Dragon's Breath rifle and walked wordlessly away.

Fenris

Abrams was almost finished his customary tour of greeting each Kindred in attendance personally. At the moment, he was exchanging a few words with Nines, and seemed pleased with what he was hearing. Next he'd probably talk to Xavier and Velvet. As Abrams turned to leave Nines, Fenris caught a scent. Someone else was here. She leaned into Skelter to whisper in his ear.

Not turning his head, Skelter replied; "It's probably just Gary, being a sneaky bastard as always."

"No," Fenris said plainly. "I'd know his stink or the scent of any kindred in L.A. This is someone new."

Skelter took a deep breath himself and indicated that Fenris was right. He looked up towards Nines and gave a hand signal; to which Nines responded with another signal.

Skelter turned his head to Fenris. "Alright, you go and check it out, girl." He said. "The last thing we need right now is some new lick coming in and crashing this Gathering."

Without a word of argument, Fenris got to her feet and headed for the exit. She was actually relieved to be out of the building and actually _doing something. _

Marko

_Troubletoubletroubletroubletroubletroubletrouble..._

The whole Network agreed. Something was very wrong. And not the right kind of wrong, neither; this wasn't fun at all.

"Look around, Baroness." Marko said to Therese. "Do you hear it?"

_Troubletoubletroubletroubletroubletroubletrouble..._

"I don't hear anything." Therese answered. She was watching Isaac converse with VV and X.

"Exactly;" Marko confirmed.

Therese turned her attention to Marko. "Your voices are giving you a warning." She stated more than asked.

_Troubletoubletroubletroubletroubletroubletrouble..._

Marko nodded. One hand instinctively reached into the waistband of his pants to touch the handle of the .45 he bought off Tripp. "Just to be safe, Baroness, you best be ready to take cover." The truth was he didn't know what kind of trouble was coming from or from where; the Network wouldn't say. Though he found Therese to be really rather abrasive, but she had her uses. Even more important than that, if anything bad happened to Therese physically, Janette would be hurt, too.

Ajax

From the shadows, Ajax watched the scene unfold in front of him. The Gangrels and the Malkavians looked uneasy; Fenris even left the building after Skelter and Rodriguez communicated in their hand signals. They believed there was a trespasser nearby, apparently. The Whoreadors were chatting before Abrams gave his big speech; Abrams doing his best to look like nothing was nothing. The Cammies were up high; scheming as always. Ajax noted the younger Tremere was paying attention to him in particular. He wanted desperately to get closer to them to know what they were up to. Not just that, maybe Strauss knew something about this Setite group that had Imalia all freaked out.

Ajax backed deeper into the shadows and activated his obfuscate. It just so happened he knew a way up there that probably even Isaac didn't know about.

Xavier

"...club doing these nights, X?"

Xavier snapped back into paying attention to the conversation he was in with Isaac and VV. As the two of them were previously chatting about David Hatter and his television series, Xavier started noting what was going on in the room around them. Fenris had just left without much explanation, apart from what appeared to be a signal from Nines. Marko looked like he was about to have a panic attack. Ajax had vanished without a trace. The Camarilla hold-outs were looking shady and shifty; as usual. As for Isaac and Velvet; VV was thanking Isaac again for helping her writer friend put together his television series, and Isaac was insisting that most of it really was the quality of Hatter's scripts. They were not quite cinema material; but made for excellent stuff on the small screen. Isaac also pointed out that part of the credit went to Xavier, as it was him who introduced David to him in the first place.

After taking and destroying Hatters' Vampire story, Xavier went to Isaac and requested he write a constructive rejection letter for the Vampire script, but also indicates a definite interest in some of his other material. Isaac did this, and actually found something that struck him as worthy for a TV Pilot, which in turn became a series. Now, 'Hotel', a series about a haunted hotel from the perspective of the ghosts is in its 5th triumphant season, and David Hatter is a wealthy man.

"I'm sorry." Xavier replied. "Did you say something?"

"I asked you how your club was doing." Isaac repeated. If he was offended, he hid it well. It was likely he simply presumed Xavier got enraptured in the architecture of the building.

"Oh," he said. "It's going great! The house band is playing tonight, but I have a promising act from Vancouver coming in this weekend. Thank you again for allowing me to take over Ash's club, by the way. I know it must have been hard for you."

"Yes," Isaac went a little distant, gazing at his watch. "Well, Ash made his choices, and perhaps it's better if I let him find his own way." He paused a moment, tapped the face of his watch. "In any event, I suppose it's time I got this Gathering underway."

"Break a leg, Isaac," VV called to him, blowing him a kiss as he took to the stage.

The crowd fell silent once Isaac Abrams stood center stage. "Evening," Isaac nodded to one wing of the theatre, and then next, "Evening. I'd like to thank all of you for coming out tonight, and I promise to make every effort to be brief; as I am certain you all have matters of your own to attend to. I would not have called this Gathering if it was not urgent that all Kindred in this City were made aware of the possibility of a very real threat to our community coming this way. As you are no doubt aware, there has been an upward spike in the number of missing children across the state lately, and I have sources in..."

_KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM! _

Gunshots rang out from above, followed by what looked like a pair of fire bolts raining down onto the stage. The first one hit Isaac in his side near the hip, the other into the side of his head. In a matter of seconds, Isaac Abrams was reduced to ashes on the floor. The flames were out quickly enough that none of those present went into frenzy, but as Xavier nudged VV to the floor so he could cover her, a quick glance around told him plenty. Though most of the Kindred were scrambling for the nearest exit, Skelter and Nines had already gone into action to prevent that, telling everyone they were safer inside for the moment. Once he was sure Therese was safe, Marko had joined the efforts of Nines and Skelter. Strauss was ever so calm, holding his ground. Tabetha and Cameron were just exiting the fire escape closest to where they were seated. How typical of the Cammies to run away. Xavier then joined Marko, Skelter and Nines in crowd control.

Tabetha

Tabetha and Cameron headed in opposite directions on the outer balcony of the Asian Theatre. For an instant, Tabetha was certain she saw someone, or some_thing _up there with them, but then it was gone. She rounded the corner to find Damsel crouched with a rifle, the barrel still smoking, pointed at her, ready to pull the trigger.

Now was Tabethas' chance to try that new path of Thaughmetergy that Strauss had been teaching her. Focusing he will and her blood, Tabetha reached out into the air between her and Damsel and plucked the rifle from her hands. Damsel gasped in shock as the rifle floated towards Tabetha and rested harmlessly at her feet. Damsels gasp became a sharp yelp as she herself was lifted off her own feet and pinned to the wall beside her; held there by thin air.

A smile touched Tabetha's thin lips. She was getting better at this Movement of the Mind stuff. She had to keep focused, though; Damsel was really strong and nearly broke out of her snare until Tabetha reinforced it as she approached. She found it got easier to maintain the snare as she got closer to her target.

"What have you done, Damsel?" she asked, only mildly disturbed by the lack of passion in her tone. It seemed that the cold veneer that Strauss was so well known for was rubbing off on her. Intellectual detachment, Strauss called it; to Tabetha it seemed like an effective way to balance her humanity with the Beast.

"Put me down, you Tremere Cammie Bitch!" Damsel shouted, still struggling.

Cameron

Once Cameron and Tabetha split up, Cameron turned the corner and found Tyler staked and torpid. There was a large rifle that looked customized in some way nearby.

"Now this," Cameron said aloud, flicking the butt end of the stake with his index finger "is interesting." Standing a moment over Tyler, Cameron wondered if it was true that a Kindred in torpor was aware of what was going on around him. He crossed his arms and looked down at the Brujah the way a father or teacher might at a student who just wouldn't learn from his mistakes. "The big, bad-ass Brujah, dropped and helpless as one of his Anarch brothers is taken out on his watch." This was too good; Cameron tsk-tsk'ed him. In his periphery, Cameron noticed the peephole that Tyler had used earlier. Taking a look, he saw that Rodriguez, Skelter, the Malkie and X were making decently quick work of calming the others down; except Strauss, who never seemed to flinch.

"You know," he said to Torpid Tyler "under Camarilla rule, this mess would never happen. So much for the fiefs, eh?" He silently cursed himself; he hated when his Canadian started to show. Shrugging, Cameron reached over and pulled the stake from Tyler's heart. The moment Tyler bounded to his feet; Cameron activated a light whammy of Presence to subdue him. He told the big guy to chill out and that he was among friends. Once he was certain that Tyler would not attack him, he deactivated his Presence.

"Do you want to tell me what happened, Big Guy, or are we going to play twenty questions?"

Tyler was silent; groaned partly in pain and partly out of resentment. As far Cameron was concerned, this was a good thing; it meant that he had the Brujah by the balls, and Tyler knew it.

"Damsel..." Tyler started.

"Put me down, you Tremere Cammie Bitch!" They heard Damsel shouting from the other side of the building.

Cameron turned to Tyler, grinning with no small amount of malice. "Don't wander too far away, big guy," he said waving a finger as if to caution a petulant child. Cameron sprinted around the building and got to the source of the shouting a moment after Strauss.

The sight he saw was perfect; Tabetha had Damsel pinned up against the wall with one of her Tremere magic tricks, and a rifle just like the one Tyler had was right at his own feet. The barrel of the gun was partially melted. It all made sense now. Damsel took sentry duty; she brought Tyler, whom she had whipped along so she could catch him off guard long enough to stake him and take Abrams out with some kind of special firearm. The Anarchs were imploding; and the Camarilla were the ones to bust Damsel. This was perfect.

"Your snare is getting stronger, my apprentice," Strauss said in his cold, measures tones. 'In time, your movement of the mind will get stronger still." He raised one hand like Darth Vader; creating a mini-vise with his thumb and forefinger. "You may release her, now."

Tabetha backed away, lowering her hands. Damsel stayed right where she was.

"I can assure you, Brujah. The more you struggle the tighter my snare becomes." Strauss cautioned her. Once she stopped struggling, Strauss moved his arm, and Damsel moved with it. "Let's bring her inside, shall we?" he suggested, allowing Cameron and Tabetha return inside the theatre ahead of him. Behind them, Tyler staggered in as well.

Cameron could not believe how perfect this was. It had to be the best night of his unlife so far.

Chapter 3

Tyler

Tyler could not believe how fucked up this was. It had to be the worst night of his unlife so far.

Not only was he staked, as if that wasn't bad enough, it was Damsel who staked him. Damsel was a traitor; who she sold out to was known only to her; that or she's gone batshit crazy. On top of that, it had to be Cameron, of all people in the world who pulled the stake out. Now he was indebted to that Ventrue bastard; and that was something Cameron would exploit; guaranteed. All Tyler could do now was hope that that would happen soon so it would be done with.

Still sore from being staked, Tyler staggered down the stairs to the main floor of the theatre and towards the stage where Strauss had used his magic to set Damsel. Nines, Skelter, Cameron and a few others turned to watch him as he sat down in one of the chairs.

"What happened to you?" Nines asked.

"Yeah, big guy," Cameron added with a smug look on his face. "Tell your Baron what happened."

Nines shot Cameron a warning glare, said nothing, and turned his attention back to Tyler.

Tyler didn't want to say it; but the truth was the truth. "Damsel staked me." He admitted.

Chuckling lightly, Cameron began fist pumping the air as everyone else in the room gasped in disbelief; even Nines and Skelter were taken aback. The only ones who showed no apparent reaction were the Tremere.

"That's BULLSHIT!" Damsel objected. "I got ambushed and knocked cold, and the next thing I know that bitch was coming at me with her weird ass magic!"

"That's a likely story!" Cameron butted in, rolling his eyes. "So much for the Baronies of Orange County; they can't keep from squabbling, and the Baron of Downtown can't even keep his own charges from staking each other."

"Watch your mouth, Cammie," Nines warned. "I'm no Baron of Downtown or anywhere else. It's only the other territories that call me that. You keep it up and you might find yourself on the wrong end of a sunrise."

Tyler muttered his agreement. Normally he would have backed Nines all the way, but right now he felt way too much like crap to do much of anything.

"Spoken like a true Baron," Cameron bowed. "It's just too bad we aren't on your turf."

"You will treat our guests with respect in Hollywood!" Xavier spoke, marching towards Cameron.

"Says who," Cameron challenged. "Isaac? Oh, wait, he can't because he's a pile of ash because Damsel shot him."

"I can speak in his place," Velvet said, standing up. "And you can treat our guests with respect...or you can leave."

"Wow," Cameron retorted. "The stripper takes the throne. That's just _purr-_fect!"

"ENOUGH!"

Startled, everyone including Tabetha turned to look at Maximilian Strauss. This was, apparently, the first time anyone in the room had ever heard him shout or express any emotion with any clarity.

Everyone silent, Strauss took a single step forward, leaned slightly into Cameron and said, "It would be best if you left Hollywood now, neonate." He had regained that signature composure of his, Tyler noted, but the threat implied in his tone of voice was clear to everyone including Cameron. Doing his best to look cool, the Ventrue scoffed and headed for the exit. Tyler couldn't help but to smirk.

"I'll talk to you later, big guy," Cameron said to him as he passed.

"With that nonsense out of the way," Strauss continued, "I think it might be best if we put Damsel's alleged transgression aside for the night so we can all approach rationally tomorrow. Is there somewhere we can keep her until then?"

Tyler noticed X glance at Velvet, who nodded once slowly. "I know a place," he offered. "There's a secure room at the Lucky Star."

"That will do nicely." Strauss said. "Will you be so accommodating as to escort her there now?"

"I don't believe this!" Damsel grumbled as X led her away. She glared angrily at Tyler as they passed.

"Now, Miss Velour..."

"Velvet..." She corrected.

"As you have named yourself the one to speak in your former Baron's staid, are you able to pass on the information he believed was necessary to impart upon us before his untimely demise?"

Reluctantly, Velvet hummed her confirmation and took the stage.

"Hey..." Marko spoke, looking around and through the crowd. "Has anyone seen Ajax or Fenris?"

Fenris

About a second after the shots rang out, Fenris spotted someone who _looked _like Damsel jumping off the balcony of the theatre and run into the alley behind it. Whoever it was, it sure didn't _smell _like Damsel. Damsel smelled like vinegar; the kind a mortal might put on French fries. This one, the one she noticed earlier, smelled more like honey – all sickly sweet. As this imposter ran off, she changed appearances to what now looked like a random guy.

Hearing the commotion inside, Fenris found herself having to make a choice; help calm the crowd down, or catch up with the shooter. It was obvious someone was trying to frame Damsel. Fenris and Damsel got along well enough, as long they stayed out of each other's way. Still, though Damsel was about as pleasant as a swarm of angry wasps, she didn't deserve to go down for a crime she didn't commit.

It was a no brainer. Fenris ran after the random guy into the alley. Whoever he was, he was a vampire; and with some wicked abilities in obfuscate, too. Too bad for him his sickly sweet scent would always give him away.

Tracking him by scent, Fenris came to an open sewer grate. Whoever he was went down there. To Fenris, that wasn't good; the combination of odours would serve to mask him, making it harder for her to follow him. On the other hand, down there, nobody could ever get far without the Nossies knowing about it. With that in mind, Fenris went down after him, figuring she could count on the Nosferatu to back her up; u_nless the random guy _was _Nosferatu... _

"Going somewhere, Fenris?" She got maybe ten feet north of where she started down here before a voice called directly behind her. "You should know better than to try and hide down here, Gangrel."

Marko

VV was telling the crowd that Isaac heard through his sources in Hollywood North – Vancouver – that the Serpents were setting up a kiddie porn ring in California. This apparently started they got run out of Vancouver by the nascent Camarilla stronghold which had only recently ousted the Sabbat. This happened around the same time that Lacroix the jester prince blew himself up with Jack's boom-box. Nines realized this was a bad thing, but his head was clearly on damsel in distress. The Baroness Therese expressed her righteous indignation at the audacity of the thought. Tabby-Cat was full of questions. Wizard King had blah-blah-blah answers. The Network went silent. Was the porn-thing a real thing? Was it a front for something else? Blah-blah-blah...

Marko knew that the blah-blah-blah was important, but the Network was silent, and that was distracting. Serpents were snakes, Gangrels were wolves. Did Fenris know already? Did she go on a snake-hunt? Nosferatu were rats, snakes eat rats. Did Ajax know already? Did he run and hide? Did he get eaten by a snake?

Maybe Nines is right; they should settle Damsel in distress. Wizard-King has something to help with that matter, but it must be collected. Where did the wolf and the rat go? If I were a snake, where would I go? I don't know. I'm lost in snow. No, it's static. The Network is silent. Why can't I hear you? Are you listening? _Tabby-Cat must fetch a bone... _

One thing came to him from the Network. How does the Network work? It didn't matter. Everyone was leaving now. Baroness Therese tells me it's time to go home.

Ajax

Still obfuscated, Ajax was watching and listening as the Cammies spoke from their perch. It sounded like they were looking to gain his clan's support in their campaign. They fell silent enough when Isaac took stage. That was when the Baron of Hollywood was blown away. The Ventrue and Strauss' little protégé wasted no time heading for the fire exit nearby; at first Ajax thought they were trying to book it out of there, but after he followed them out he saw quickly enough they were investigating what was happening. The Ventrue found Tyler, and the junior Tremere cast some spell on Damsel.

What none of them noticed was Fenris running into the alley below while they all headed into the theatre; Strauss carrying Damsel telekinetically, and his entourage plus Tyler in drogue. Since he figured everyone would know about what was going on inside, Ajax jumped down to the ground to follow Fenris. It might prove valuable to know what she was up to.

By the time he got to the alley, the Gangrel was sniffing around a sewer grate; and then she climbed down. Incredulous to her arrogance if she thought that was a good escape route for her, Ajax followed. Below, he caught her about ten feet away to the north, still sniffing around.

"Going somewhere, Fenris?" He called to her. "You should know better than to try and hide down here, Gangrel."

Startled, Fenris whirled around and saw him. Ajax was disappointed that she regained her composure so quickly. Then again, the Gangrel Clan were typically tougher to scare than most of the other clans. It must have something to do with their proximity to the Beast.

"Not hiding," she said, "tracking."

"Is that so?" Ajax replied, dubious.

"Whoever shot Abrams was not Damsel."

"You don't say?"

"The shooter ducked down here somewhere." Fenris elaborated. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Sensing a threat in her question, Ajax bristled. "You'll want to be careful of your tone down here, Gangrel. Remember just where you are." His phone went off, indicating a text message; then another, and another. "Don't move," he warned her as he checked the messages. The first was Imalia, the second Mitnick, and the third Barabbas. They all basically said the same thing. Grumbling, Ajax sent a reply to all to indicate he was on his way.

"Come on," he said to Fenris. "What you have to say about your 'discovery' might be relevant."

Xavier

After spending some time alone and now being in close quarters with her, Xavier was starting to see what it was about Damsel that Tyler liked so much. Up until now, her seemingly perpetual rage and generally angry disposition was really quite a distraction from how attractive she really was. Now, however, he understood that it was that that anger, that passion for her core beliefs and the conviction with she held to her values and her cause that was part of her allure. It gave her a certain vitality that was actually quite rare even amongst the younger Kindred. It was really quite poetic; she truly was a warrior at heart, like a lioness protecting her cubs. Truly, Damsel had earned the title of den mother amongst her ilk Downtown...

"...hey X! Are you still here, or what?"

Xavier snapped himself out of his thoughts and back into the situation at hand; at the Lucky Star, watching over Damsel, who was talking to him and now glaring at him as if insulted by his lack of attention.

"Sorry Damsel," he apologized. "I lost focus for a moment there. You were saying?"

Damsel's glare softened, and for just a moment her frown turned upside down into a smile. She must have realized that he got caught up in his Clan's tendency to get all wrapped up in beauty. More, she probably realized that she was, albeit briefly, the subject of that rapture. The situation could now go two ways; either she would be flattered and be more at ease with him, or she could use his appreciation to catch him off guard. He would have to be careful.

"I was saying," Damsel repeated herself, "Don't you think I'd have run by now if I shot Isaac? If I was guilty, do you think I'd be cooperating at all?"

"Maybe you know that if you ran it'd only make things worse for you after I caught you."

"Oh, that's real," she countered. "Why would I shoot Isaac anyway? What purpose would that serve? And why would I stake Tyler?"

"To remove the Baronies and push the entire city into being a 'True Anarch State'. Isaac is...I mean was the Primary supporter and advocate to the Barony system."

Damsel groaned in dismay. "That sounds like something Cammie might say." She said. The words stung Xavier a little. "Now either you're stupid or you think I am. A bone-head move like that would destabilize the fragile truce we all have and give the Camarilla just the kind of leverage they would need to try to roll back into town full force."

Xavier had to admit that Damsel had a point. Back at the theatre, Cameron was acting like Isaac's murder was a good thing; and was all fired up to sing the praises of Camarilla order – or more accurately to sing the flaws of the Barony system. The Camarilla were sneaky bastards like that, too; set up a covert mission to shake things up and then openly swoop in to restore order and peace under their empirical banner.

"You've shown yourself to be reasonable before, X." Damsel continued, as gently as he had ever heard speak to anyone. "Maybe you should chew that for awhile."

Tabetha

"Master Strauss," Tabetha asked on their way back to the Chantry, "are the Setites really as bad as our documents seem to say they are? Based on what I've studied so far, it's hard to tell if they are even Kindred at all."

"Their religion and the zeal with which they hold to it is what make them particularly dangerous, my apprentice." Strauss answered. "They truly do believe they are of a lineage completely separate from the rest Kindred society, and therefore many of them believe themselves exempt from our laws. They reject both the Camarilla and the Sabbat, and hold no regard for any of the Anarch movement. As an independent Clan, they are very nearly a Sect unto themselves, and are clever enough to operate within many cities for a very long time before they are even noticed."

"Then Isaac's death and the discord it puts the Baronies in probably makes LA look a lot like low hanging fruit to them." Tabetha suggested.

"Indeed."

"Then maybe Damsel shooting Isaac is a good thing for the Camarilla. I mean, it's tragic that Isaac died, but now more than ever this city needs the stability that a consolidated Camarilla system of law and order can provide."

"Alleged shooting," Strauss corrected. Before Tabetha could ask if he thought Damsel was innocent and telling the truth, Strauss continued. "One must never be hasty to jump to any conclusions, my apprentice. Before we condemn Damsel, we must first explore and evaluate the validity of her testimony. Let us not forget, after all, that it was the Anarchs that dispatched the rogue plague bearers a number of years ago. I seem to remember Damsel played a role in that dispatch, along with the young Brujah; Tyler DeFaulte, I believe his name is."

Strauss was, as usual, right about that. Most of the heavy lifting around the plague bearers; the Ninth Circle Cult was dealt with by Tyler while Damsel gathered most of the useful intelligence. Shooting allies was out of character for her; even if it an ally she didn't much like the politics of.

"In principle, however, you are correct; with the new threat and the timing of this discord, this may well be an ideal time to demonstrate why the Camarilla is necessary for the survival of our kind and the stability of our society." Strauss concluded.

"Right," Tabetha agreed. "So how are we going to verify Damsels' side of the story tonight?"

"I'm glad you asked, apprentice." Strauss said just a little too warmly for Tabetha. Usually that tone meant she was about to be sent on an errand, and all errands, she had discovered, also contained a lesson; usually a hard one. "I have an associate in Chinatown; a most interesting man by the name of Ox. Mr. Ox has in his possession a number of artifacts that have proven very useful to our Clan over the years. Among them is a very specific bone that can be used to detect deception when one speaks. Tomorrow night, you will go to Ox and retrieve this bone from him, and we shall use it to test Damsel."

That didn't sound too bad. "Yes, Master Strauss." Tabetha complied as they arrived at the Chantry.

Cameron

The moment he entered his suite at the Skyline apartments, Heather was ready and anxious to greet him. She had just finished feeding the fish and had the place immaculate as always. It was obvious she was happy to see him. _So like a dog; and she's already housebroken. _On top of that, all the paperwork for the week at the Cameron Arms Hotel was done. Heather had done well tonight; surely she deserved her meal this month.

He fed his ghoul and led her to the couch. They had another matter to discuss.

"Yes master," Heather nodded. "I talked to Samantha while you were gone. She told me that Xavier and Venus over at Confession were talking about networking their clubs. She also said they were planning on proposing the idea to Therese at the Asylum as well." She clearly saw that that was not quite the news he wanted to hear; if they were networked, that would make it more difficult for him to buy any of them out. "I hope I didn't say anything to upset you, master," Heather said timidly.

"No, Heather, it wasn't you this time," he assured her; watching her sigh with relief. "While you are the bearer of bad news, it's not your fault." There was no need to torment her tonight. She had done well over all, and everything else was all good news; one little wrinkle wasn't going to kill his buzz.

His cell phone rang. Cameron shooed Heather away while he checked the display and saw it was Mercurio. Smiling, he hit the answer button in the hopes of hearing more good news.

"Cameron Hastings," he greeted.

"Hey, Cameron, it's me." Mercurio greeted back. "I got those documents you wanted, and by the look of the parcel they came in, there's more to them than you expected."

That sounded promising. "Really," he said. "You wouldn't have opened this parcel, by any chance, would you?"

"Of course not!" he shot back. "What do you think I am an amateur?"

Since Mercurio had been at this game longer than Cameron had been alive, let alone Kindred, he was willing to let a little bit of lippy attitude slide. Also, Mercurio was damn good at his job; especially for a ghoul. For all of LaCroix's shortcomings, he did train his former agent well; Mercurio was a definite asset to procure from the former Prince's demise.

"Excellent," Cameron said. "Put the parcel in the briefcase I provided you, and I'll be by tomorrow night to pick it up."

"Yeah, about that; you might want to send that girl in instead." Mercurio recommended. "It seems the Twins finally agreed on something from what I heard. They both say that Santa Monica is no place for you to come. Word is that Therese wants you killed on sight if you show up, and Janette hopes she sees you first 'cause she's got something even better than that in mind. I don't know what, but I don't think I ever want to find out."

Wrinkling his nose, Cameron looked over at Heather and considered Mercurio's suggestion. The he thought about Tyler and his associate Venus. Tyler was silent partner at confession, and that meant he had some part in this network mess. That meant he could get to Therese and Janette. Tyler owed him for tonight, so there was his pass into Santa Monica.

Thank you for the heads up, Mercurio," Cameron replied. "But trust me; I'll be by to pick it up personally." With that said, he hung up.

Chapter 4

Tyler

Tyler had barely taken five steps past the coat check into Confession before Venus waved him over to the bar. Ten years ago, he took care of her problem with her former Russian benefactors, and as payment for his trouble, she made him a silent partner. Since then, he had become a more known partner and partial owner of the business. Venus still held the lion's share, but he now had some controlling interest. Presence was a very handy thing to have. Sometimes Tyler DeFaulte found it hard to believe he was once a football player.

Tonight was supposed to be Damsel's hearing, but there was also a Club affair to take care of; setting up the network with Asylum and the Pit, specifically. Putting on his Club cool face, he approached the bar where Venus waited.

"One of your friends is waiting for you at table seven," Venus said to him over the booming industrial music, "the obnoxious lout."

Tyler nodded. It could be Marko she was talking about; sometimes his loony-tune antics could be interpreted as obnoxious. More than likely it was Cameron; who almost always was obnoxious. Tyler was hoping for Marko. He was a nutcase, but if you could get around that he was alright. Not only that, but if it was Marko, then he might save himself a trip to Santa Monica. He got to table seven, and Cameron sat waiting, feet propped up on the table. As Tyler approached, Cameron sat properly.

"What do you want, Cammie?" Tyler asked, still standing with his arms crossed.

Cameron guffawed lightly. "Good to see you too, big guy!" he spoke over the music. "Have a seat, buddy." He offered Tyler a chair.

"I asked you a question," Tyler remained standing. "What do you want?"

"Have it your way," Cameron replied, shrugging. "I came by to see if you could help me out with something."

"What? Out of my club?" Tyler offered. "Sure thing, pal; I'd be happy to!" He pointed in the direction of the exit. "The door is right over there."

Wagging a finger at Tyler and chuckling, Cameron said "You're a funny guy, Tie! But seriously, Strauss wants me to pick something up for him at Mercurio's in Santa Monica, but it seems the Twins actually agree on me not being welcome in their little burg."

"Gee, I wonder why?" Tyler interjected, dripping with sarcasm.

"I now, right?" Cameron matched him. "Anyway, I hear you're in pretty good with both of them, so..."

"I'm not picking anything up for you, Cammie. You can forget that."

"Well," Cameron started, "never mind that you do owe me, but that wasn't what I was going to ask. What I was going to ask is that you bring me into Santa Monica so I can work out any differences the Twins have with me, and I can go pick it up myself."

"Why should I?"

"I took LaCroix down, for starters, and wasn't it last night I pulled you out of Torpor?"

Tyler glared for a second. He was going to point out that he took Lacroix down, with six others helping to clear the path; including himself and Ajax, who took the Sheriff out. It was actually Marko who, laughing the whole time, snatched the key from Ajax and dropped just outside of LaCroix's grasp and urged everyone out of the building. Bottom line was that the former Prince took himself out when the box exploded after he opened it. That was all moot. Cameron had him over last night; and they both knew it.

Then Tyler's glare changed to a smile. "I get you passage into Santa Monica, and we're even?"

"Absolutely, Big Guy," Cameron agreed. "Get me into Santa Monica, and we're even."

"Fine; you have a deal." Tyler said. "But don't go getting one of your fancy limo's; that won't fly. We have to do this my way. Just let me get my car over at the Hollowbrook. I'll come pick you up."

"Fair enough," Cameron said.

Tyler left Confession and jogged back to the renovated Hollowbrook Hotel where he and Damsel lived together. He had to go to Asylum tonight anyway. On his way to his car, he pulled out his cell phone. He had a few calls to make...

Fenris

The sun had fully set, plunging into the sea on the western horizon; and Fenris Fraust rose from the sands of the beach, not far from the Santa Monica Pier. She had chosen here to retire the night before for a reason; it put her in close proximity to where she was supposed to meet with Ajax tonight. Of all the Nosferatu, Fenris found Ajax the least offensive. Sure, he lived somewhere in the sewers, but at least he made an honest effort to bathe on a regular basis. Granted, he smelled as if he bathed himself in bleach, but even that was better than the stink of most of the Sewer Rats. Bertram Tung, the new Primogen as of last night, reeked of motor oil; so much so that Fenris wondered if even mortals could smell him. Mitnick had that smell of an electrical fire on him, and Imalia walked in a cloud of some super-model expensive perfume and baby powder. The general smell of Chinatown clung to Barabbas; something Fenris attributed to the amount of time he spent there. Gary Gold, whom she learned was also killed last night, had smelled of moldy butter and stale movie theatre popcorn.

Last night, after Ajax had intercepted her tracking efforts, he escorted her to the cemetery. There, in one of the tombs, they met with some of the other Nosferatu. Gary had been assassinated. Ajax, Imalia, and Mitnick seemed completely lost; until Barabbas finally spoke up and indicated that it seemed Bertram should be next up for Gary's old job. Bertram reluctantly accepted the role. The first thing he did was arrange for Ajax and her to get to the business of finding this assassin; two City leaders in one night makes for a threat too big to let rest, he said. The second thing he did was send Fenris away while the Nosferatu handle 'Clan business.'

That was last night. Tonight, Fenris began by taking a deep breath to take in the night air; to savor the scent of sea salt and the subtle hint of cinnamon in the wind...

_Cinnamon? This far from the Pier? _No, this wasn't from the Pier at all. Following it, the scent seemed to come from the old beach house were that punk Dennis used to operate ten years ago. She heard it was recently leased out to someone; apparently this was so. Still, there was something about the way the scent was clear, yet understated that rang a bell for her for some reason.

Moving on, she continued towards the Pier; or more accurately beneath the Pier, where she was supposed to rendezvous with Ajax. It didn't take terribly long before that aggravatingly familiar cinnamon odor gave way to unmistakable bleach bathed smell that gave away Ajax every time.

"Sorry about your loss." Fenris said the moment he showed himself, taking care not to look directly at him.

"Shit happens." He replied coolly. "Bertram had more information that might be relevant. He thinks last night's events might be the work of an Assamite."

Fenris knew about the Assamites. Skelter told her stories about them. The way he told it, their founder was probably the first Hunter, and he hunted Cain. Skelter told her Haqim, the Hunter, got himself turned with Cain's own blood in order to hunt and kill Cain and all of his children. Camarilla, Sabbat, the independent Clans, it didn't matter; he wanted them all dead. Somewhere along the line, his progeny started hiring themselves out as assassins, their wages paid in blood for who knows what exact reason. Diablerie, probably, Skelter said. This was after the Tremere put a curse on them, and before that curse was overcome to be replaced with a different curse.

"So who hired him?"

Ajax shrugged. "Bertram believes it might be a faction of Ventrue who have been taking the West Coast by storm on behalf of the Cammies; all members of the same family; literally. It's almost like the Giovanni all over again if you ask me. They've managed to take Western Canada, Washington, and Oregon already, and have had something of a stranglehold on San Francisco for as long as anyone cares to remember. Apparently, LA is next on the menu."

"So?"

"So we're going to have to find this Assamite, bring him in alive if we can, and find out who hired him."

Fenris suddenly figured out where she knew that cinnamon smell from. It was in that tomb. The reason she had a hard time identifying it at first was because of all the conflicting odors. Without a word she turned on one foot and began to make her way briskly back towards the beach house.

"Where are you going?" Ajax asked, chasing after her.

"I know the first place to look." Fenris said, not even breaking stride. "Come on."

Marko

Just as Tyler, escorting Cameron, entered the Asylum, Marko had finished up his phone conversation with Knox to make sure everything for tonight's fun was in order. Knox assured him with his usual goofball enthusiasm and good cheer that it was. It didn't seem to matter much to either of their new guests that Bertram's ghoul was just outside the very same Club they had entered.

"Everything's in place," he told Janette, speaking directly into her ear to be heard over the Gothic Trance music blaring from the speakers.

Janette giggled and clapped like a schoolgirl. "Finally a little entertainment!" she shouted. "You really know how to show a girl a good time, kitten!"

She skipped towards the visitors, Marko keeping three paces behind her. He thought it best to let her take point on this for now; it was her Club, and he just loved to watch her do her thing.

_Lustful Lord Hastings..._

"Well, well, well, and what do we have here?" Janette greeted Tyler and Cameron, "a Tidy Bear and a Dirty Duckling having a night on the old town? The two of you make odd bedfellows, or are you bound together with Duck tape?"

"Trust me, Janette," Tyler said with just the right amount of resentment, "this is all about business tonight."

_...suspects nothing and expects everything._

Janette giggled. "Oh, with you in town Tidy Bear, even business is pleasure." She gave Cameron a once over. "You, Dirty Duckling, are better off somewhere else."

"Apparently I've done or said something to upset you two," Cameron replied innocently. "Actually, that's part of the business that the Big Guy is here about. Isn't it, Big Guy?"

"Cammie here needs into Santa Monica." Tyler confirmed.

_He wants to go to Mercury._

"Why should the Baroness allow this?" Marko nudged his way into the conversation.

"Believe me," Cameron said, "this is the last place I want to be; but since Mercurio is here, so am I. This is purely out of necessity, I assure you. He has something for me; some very sensitive documents that Strauss requires and insists that I pick up personally."

_Lustful liar Lord Hastings..._

"Right," Tyler added, "so I was thinking that if he comes here, straight to his ghoul and right back out again, there's no harm, right? Besides, Therese likes to play nice with the Cammies, doesn't she? Giving Cammie the Cammie of Cammies here will go a long way in that direction."

Janette twirled around to face Marko, her blonde pigtails swishing as she did. "What do you think, Kitten? I'm sure we can trust Tidy Bear, but what about Dirty Duckling?"

Marko had to laugh. 'Tidy Bear' was a name Janette started using after he told her that the Network once told him that Tyler briefly considered a rap career; in which he would call himself 'Tye-D'. This was before he started in football.

"I think Tye-D Bear has got some mad skills and a silver tongue, he's a gridiron king and he's forever young. He states his case like a first string pro and he's stepping on up for this downtown schmo. The Dirty Duckling wants in; the Bear says it's cool, check with the lady upstairs to get a pass for this fool."

Janette Laughed. Tyler rolled his eyes in amused exasperation. Cameron stared at Marko blankly.

"Alright, Tidy Bear," Janette conceded, "Just for you, I'll take your request to Therese." She turned again to Cameron. "Don't go anywhere just yet, Duckling. So far, it's still Duck season out there." Bobbing her head side to side, Janette skipped towards the elevator to the office that both sides her identity shared.

Marko offered them a seat at a nearby table, saying this could take awhile.

"So Therese has sympathy for the Camarilla?" Cameron asked, stroking his chin.

Marko shot a worried glance at Tyler. "Oh no!" he said in mock conspiracy. "He found out!"

"When will she be down, anyway?" Cameron was glancing at his watch, doing his best to ignore Marko's behavior.

"Not until her seams are as straight as her thoughts are crooked."

"So this could take awhile," Tyler said, doing his best to just play along. "Hey, how'd those two get to be such opposites anyway?"

"It's a broken mirror between them." Marko said as if that explained everything. As far as he was concerned, it did explain it all. Both Cameron and Tyler nodded, pretending to understand. Then the three of them went silent while they waited. In that silence, Marko contemplating making them understand. He considered repeating what the Network said that they were a broken mirror, too; and then showing them what that meant. He quickly decided against that; as much fun as it would be. Therese needed Tyler whole; at least for now.

Finally, Therese Vorman came down. She stepped out the elevator and walked to their table like a perfect lady fresh out of finishing school. Marko got up and prepared for her a chair, which she took, and then he stood half a step behind her chair and to the right in case she needed something else.

"Janette told me you were here," she said to Cameron. "We discussed at length the terms in which your visits to my city will be deemed acceptable. These are the terms, and they are non-negotiable. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly."

"Good," she said. "As long as Tyler is in Santa Monica with you, your visits to your ghoul Mercurio will not be interfered with. While you are in my city, you will visit Mercurio, conduct your affairs with him, and leave promptly when you are done. Sp long as you do not attempt to do anything else in Santa Monica, no physical harm will come to you. Again, and I cannot emphasise this enough, the only reason your presence will be tolerated in Santa Monica is to handle your affairs with Mercurio, and provided Tyler is in Santa Monica with you, your affairs with Mercurio will not be interfered with.

"These terms are not up for negotiation, and can only ever be altered by me or Janette. Failure to honor these terms on your part will result in your immediate seeing of the silly clown wallpaper. Are we clear on this matter?"

Marko restrained his urge to look at Therese; for a split second it seemed like Janette was about to came back out.

"We are clear," Cameron agreed, clearly not terribly impressed but willing to make do with what he can get. Whatever those documents are must be worth it.

"Good," Therese smiled. "These terms are effective immediately. Get out of my Nightclub before I decide you are in breach of the terms. Go to your ghoul and get what you need and get out of my city."

For once, Cameron had no smart remark. He got up and left without a word. Marko wondered if he had a modicum of respect for Therese.

_He's terrified of her. _

Cameron gone, Therese turned her attention to Tyler. Once they began to talk boring shop-talk, Marko wandered off into the Asylum.

Ajax

Bertram Tung once commented that he chose Knox as his ghoul because he can track like a bloodhound. Ajax had seen Knox at work; he was good. Part of his method involved acting like a boob to make it all too easy to underestimate him. Being that he also worked part time as a bounty hunter for a local bail bondsman was perfect. It gave him reason to go around asking about all kinds of shady and shifty characters.

All that said, Ajax still wondered if Bertram ever had much of a chance to really observe a Gangrel tracking someone. Watching Fenris go at it was something to behold. The second he updated her on the possible Assamite/Camarilla lead, she led him to an old house on the beach and started sniffing around like a bloodhound; literally! No stranger to tossing houses himself, Ajax started to help, but it was all Fenris who found anything of use.

"Can't you smell it?" she asked, sniffing. "Cinnamon; it's everywhere in here. He was here, alright."

"What are you talking about?"

"At the tomb last night there was a hint of this guy. Here he's all over the place; he's been living here, probably as a base of operations." She continued to rummage around until she found a scrap of paper with a card attached to it with a paper clip. She examined the card and dropped it. She looked at the scrap more closely and gasped.

"What...?"

Fenris didn't say a word; only bolted past him, thrusting the scrap paper into his hand. She went out the door, leaving Ajax to look at the scrap himself:

Targets to end:

I. Gary Golden: Nosferatu, Hollywood

II. Therese Vorman: Malkavian, Santa Monica (Asylum)

III. Nines Rodriguez: Bruja, Downtown Los Angeles (Last Round)

IV. Isaac Abrams: Toreador, Hollywood (Abrams Jewelers)

V. *Maximilian Strauss: Tremere, location uncertain.

Note: Strauss is not part of the agreement, but he is a hateful Tremere and needs to be ended regardless. All indications suggest he is located either in Downtown or Chinatown. Chantry most likely Downtown, but almost definitely hidden from the eyes of enemies through Thaumeturgical means.

It was a hit list. Fenris was right; this was probably where the Assamite set up shop. Gary was ended. Isaac was dead. Two 'official' targets were down, two to go plus a personal thing with Strauss. As far as Ajax knew, Assamites were vengeful, especially when it came to the Warlocks, but they were professional first. Strauss would be last. That meant it would either be Therese or Nines next. Ajax took a look at the card; it was one of Therese's. She liked to hand them out. That meant she may have even met this guy. That was probably where Fenris was headed. She now had one hell of a head start on him; but he knew one hell of a shortcut. Unless his estimations were off, they'd both arrive at Asylum at about the same time.

Xavier

When Xavier told Damsel about the possibility of the Setites coming into the state, she was furious at the notion. It became very clear very quickly that the Serpents were even worse than the Camarilla or the Sabbat in her mind. Not that he disagreed based on what he knew about them already; but he asked her why.

"They take everything good in the world and ruin it, that's why!" She exclaimed as they headed to Vesuvius. The Theatre was out because of last night, and VV closed her doors to have a 'private party.' "Here's what happens when those damned snakes come around: Anything that is right and good they pervert it into something nasty, they twist it until you can't even recognize it anymore. Next thing you know, some Camarilla asshole comes along to push them out, the Capes look like big heroes, and the Cammies take over and we're all back to square one."

"So it's like a conspiracy," Xavier said dubiously.

"Hey," Damsel shrugged. "You said it, not me."

"So we have to straighten your situation out and get our shit together before that happens." Xavier added to his thought. "You say you've been framed. Is that something the Setites might do to get a foothold?"

"Anything is possible with those Sons of Bitches."

"I see. So we need Strauss to prove your case..."

"As if that's going to happen," Damsel retorted. "More likely he'll prove the case against me to advance the Cammie line."

"Look, Damsel," Xavier said. "LaCroix was a first class jerk-off. You'll get no argument from me on that one. But Strauss isn't all that bad. I'm sure he really wants to do this fair. Besides, if he gets caught screwing around, there's enough of us to wipe out the remaining Camarilla anyway."

Damsel scoffed. "You're a lot like Tyler, X." She said. "Your heart is in the right place, but you still got a lot to learn."

Tabetha

The first thing Tabetha noticed when she got to Chinatown was that it was crawling with Nosferatu. They were all obfuscated, of course, but they were quite literally everywhere; she could see them in every alley, nook and cranny with her Auspex. Anywhere there was a shadow to lurk in seemed to have a Sewer Rat waiting and watching in it. If Gary didn't know she was headed here tonight, it was guaranteed he knew she was here now.

The driver stopped the car in front of the shop that Mr. Ox ran, which was now across the street from her. Tabetha crossed the street and entered the shop; a small and dusty place, the shelves crowded with all manner of items and curiosities. To Tabetha, the manner in which the shelves were stocked seemed completely random. Such chaos was very much anathema to her sensibilities; perhaps that was the lesson Strauss had in mind. Maybe this was about keeping her focus even in chaotic places. That was easy enough. Amid the clutter, she even found the clerk's desk easily enough and navigated her way to the man standing behind it. Out of habit, she checked his aura to get a grasp on who or what she dealing with. What she found gave her cause to pause.

This man had no aura; which was impossible as far as she knew. Even Kindred had auras, and though some could obfuscate to look like something else, they couldn't hide it completely; at least not to her experience. This man could be an ancient, she supposed. To look at him he presented as a very old man, withered and gray. His eyes suggested he was nearly blind, but that couldn't be since he beckoned her to him as she approached.

"You are always welcome here." He greeted her with a dusty voice.

"Thank you," she replied. "Am I right to presume that you are Ox?"

The man behind the desk made a noise that was a cross between a hum of contemplation and a laugh. "That is the name I use now, yes." He said, drawing out the last word.

"Very good," she said. "My name is..."

Ox chuckled. "I know who are you are, Tabetha Toussaint; protégé of Mr. Strauss. And I know why you are here."

"Excellent," Tabetha answered back. Strauss must have notified him. She reached for her money clip to pay him for the bone. Even as she touched it, Ox began again to chuckle dustily. She already knew what this was about; it was as she was taught. Sometimes, there are things that money cannot buy. Even before he spoke again, Tabetha realized he was going to ask a favor of some kind.

"I am reminded of a story," Ox began. "Once there was a young and beautiful girl, the daughter of a rich and powerful man. The daughter was the man's pride and joy, but she was very vain. One day, the girl was at a shop when she saw a beautifully crafted mirror that she thought she must have, but the shopkeeper would not sell it to her at any price. The girl desired the mirror so badly that she stole it. Do you know what happened to the girl?"

Tabetha gave it some thought. Since the shopkeeper wasn't willing to sell it, the father wouldn't have covered the cost of the mirror. Since the father sounds like he dotes on his daughter, he probably didn't make her give it back. She might have told her father that she bought it, and he would likely believe her.

"Did the shopkeeper press charges and take her to court for theft?" she asked.

"No..." he answered, stretching out the word. "The daughter took the mirror home and gazed into it, and then she fell into a trance. Even today, she lies in a coma in the hospital; and Kiki's father pays large amounts of money for her care and a search for the cure. The mirror sits in her room at home; her soul trapped behind the glass. Bring my mirror back to me, and the bone is yours."

That sounded easy enough. She asked Ox where her home was, and all he would say in response was with her father, who was at the Red Dragon Restaurant. Tabetha turned and left the shop to head for the Red Dragon.

At the front desk of the once grand restaurant there was a basket with about $100 dollars in small bills in it, and a picture of an attractive young woman behind it. On the picture was a small plaque which read 'find a cure for my Kiki'. Tabetha fished out a ten dollar bill and put it in the basket.

"Can I help you?" a waitress behind her asked.

Tabetha turned around to face her. "Yes," she replied. "I'm a medical researcher, and I need to speak to Kiki's father. I was told I could find him here. Do you know where he is?"

The waitress, who was clearly bored and unimpressed with her job, stepped around the desk and hit a button underneath it to reveal an elevator behind the desk. "Second floor, first door on your right," she said, letting her pass.

Tabetha thanked her and stepped into the elevator, hitting the button to take her to the second floor. The elevator opened up to a hallway which had three doors in it; one on the left, and two on the right. The door to the left was opened, and the first on the right was opened. She tapped lightly on the door to the right before peaking inside to see an office. Apart from the furniture and decor, the office was empty. On one wall there was a sliding paper door, which she tried upon entering the office. It slid open to a small apartment, which was kept immaculately clean. A quick exploration of the apartment revealed it was lived in by a man, who was not home at the moment. Tabetha found what she correctly guessed was the man exit of the apartment, which took her back to the hallway; standing just outside the second door to the right.

By process of elimination, Tabetha deduced that either Kiki's father had left the building or was behind the door to the left. Back up the hallway, she tapped on the last door lightly. There was no answer.

"Hello..." she called gently, "sir? My name is Tabetha Toussaint. I'm a medical researcher working on your daughter's condition. I'd like to ask you a few questions if I may."

Still no response; Tabetha stepped into a foyer which led into a larger, evidently more feminine apartment. It was apparent that Kiki lived in this one. It was as clean as the man's but not as well organised. It had a look that told her that the apartment was painstakingly maintained to look exactly the way it was found when Kiki's condition was discovered. Such behavior was common with humans when it came to missing or sick children. Calling out to whoever may be in the apartment, Tabetha explored until she found a man in the bedroom, eyes wide open and unblinking on the bed. On the floor beside the bed was a handheld mirror; face down.

Tabetha picked up the mirror, resisting the urge to look into it. Holding it so the glass faced away from her, she began to leave the room when the mirror in her hand jumped. A glint of light shot out from it and touched the man, who leaped up to a seated position in the bed as if from a terrible dream.

"What happened?" the man asked. "I was with my Kiki in an awful place we couldn't leave..."

"You must have dozed off," Tabetha answered. "You were having a nightmare."

"Yes," the man agreed. "That must be it." He looked at Tabetha. "Wait, who are you? What are you doing in my Kiki's apartment?"

Hiding the mirror behind her back, Tabetha established eye contact with the man. "My name is Tabetha Toussaint." She explained. Activating her dominate discipline, she continued; "we had an appointment to discuss your daughters' condition."

For a moment, he looked dubious, but then he finally succumbed. "Yes, I remember that now." He agreed. "I'm sorry if I seemed rude. I'm just very worried about my daughter. Do you have anything new to say about her condition?"

"Yes, sir, we do." Tabetha answered. "She has been showing very subtle signs of recovery, but it is much too early to say for certain. Also, we have developed some theories as to the how all this happened, which is very helpful. Your answers to my questions helped confirm some of our theories." She bowed slightly. "Thank you very much for your time, sir."

"Thank you," the man said back. "Please, I am begging you, heal my Kiki."

"We're doing the best we can, sir." Tabetha said, bowing again before turning to leave, making sure she kept the mirror concealed.

Cameron

In Mercurio's suite, Cameron Hastings checked the documents. Satisfied they were all in order, legitimate and not tampered with or altered in any way, he placed them back into the briefcase and thanked Mercurio for a job well done.

The documents confirmed what he always knew. He was true Hastings, and therefore privy to all the benefits that came with his pedigree. Soon, he would have all the help he needed in establishing himself and his family in Los Angeles, and all of it would be perfectly legal and in accordance to Camarilla law. Nobody; not Nines Rodriguez, not Therese Vorman, not even Max Strauss could stand in his way. They would either join him, or they would fall.

Outside, Tyler waited in his Challenger, idling and the speakers of his sound system pumping out that hip-hop garbage. He had a passenger; a rough looking sort, all black hair and an unkempt beard. He looked like some kind biker. As he approached the car, Cameron recognized the passenger by his unmistakable smile; it was Jack.

From the drivers' seat, Tyler rolled down his window. He did not open or unlock any of the doors.

"Did you get what you came for?" Tyler asked him.

Cameron held up the briefcase. "Yes, I did." He confirmed, and then added that Strauss would be very happy with the results. Cameron saw no harm in keeping his subterfuge in order. He noticed the ghoul that had been following him exit the Building where Mercurio lived. He snapped his fingers as if he forgot something and went back inside.

"Great," Tyler said in a too friendly tone. "I'm glad to hear it. So that means we're even now, right?"

Growing tired of this runaround, Cameron sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Big Guy, we're even now." He agreed.

"Good," Tyler said, smiling. "See you around, Cammie." Tyler then rolled up his window, flipped Cameron the bird and drove away; leaving Cameron in the middle of the street.

It began to rain.

Chapter 5

Tyler

"So let me get this straight," Jack said. "Cammie the Cammie had what basically amounts to a boon on you, and you conned him into blowing it on a bad deal for Santa Monica access?"

"That pretty much is the size of it." Tyler confirmed as they sat in the Last Round, waiting for Nines to show up. Tyler was starting to lose his patience; Jack was wasting time. When he found him waiting at his car earlier, Jack said he had big news from San Francisco. He wouldn't go into any details until Nines was there to hear it; only that the Setite kiddie porn thing was a sham.

"Then you ditched him there, and now he's in violation of that deal."Jack confirmed with a chuckle. "You beat that Ventrue scumbag at his own game." Jack laughed warmly and gave Tyler a solid pat on the back. "That's not bad, kiddo; not bad at all."

Despite himself, Tyler grinned. Getting praise from an old hand at this game like Jack had a way of diffusing just about anybody; even in a loud watering hole blasting punk rock music like the Last Round. "So how did you come by this big news, anyway?"

"That's not important, kiddo," Jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "What matters is I got it. I just wish I could've got here quicker. Things are tough for us in San Fran. Prince Ezekiel may be a Ventrue and a cape, but he's not dumb. He runs a real tight ship; and he knows what he's doing. I had a hell of time getting out of there in one piece."

"That's good to know," Nines Rodriguez said, taking a seat at their table. "Glad you could make it, you old pirate."

Once the formalities of greetings-if you wanted to call lighthearted banter formalities – were done, Jack lit a cigar and got down to business.

Fenris

"You have got to be kidding me!" Fenris hissed under her breath. Just as she was approaching the Asylum from the parking garage near the Pier, Ajax stepped out of the shadows of the adjacent alley. She figured she would have to wait up for him after she took off from the beach house; but apparently he knew a shortcut. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, but the Nosferatu and their ways still managed to catch her off guard sometimes.

"Hey there, sweet stuff," Ajax greeted, grinning. That was when it occurred to her that Ajax had a permanent Cheshire grin on his face. In fact, his features in general gave him a look more like an alley cat than a sewer rat. "Long time, no see; we really ought to stop meeting like this. People will start to talk..." he snickered.

"And you better stop with all that dirty talk," Fenris warned, "or I'll just have to tell Skelter you've been putting moves on me. He tends to get possessive, you know."

Ajax guffawed. "You wish you could land a sexy thing like me. Tell you what sweet stuff; let's just keep out torrid night at Asylum to ourselves..." He stepped forward and towards the entrance that the twins were thoughtful enough to provide for the Nosferatu Clan.

Fenris stopped him short. "Hold up a second," she said, pointing to a cab waiting outside the front door. "Check it out."

Therese Vorman stepped out into the street, Marko close behind with an umbrella held above the Baroness's head as she let herself into the cab. Once she was in, Marko circled the cab and got in the other side.

"There goes one of them," Ajax observed. "That leaves one here."

It took a moment for Fenris to figure out what he was talking about. Of course he meant that Janette had to still be inside. While it was clear that Therese was the target, it was possible that the Assamite would try to use Janette as leverage; possibly even take out one twin to get the other worked up to make a mistake. Both of them had to be guarded. Both of them had to be warned.

Do you know where they're going?" She asked.

"Imalia says the gathering tonight is supposed to be a private party at Vesuvius," Ajax replied with a sneer. "I'm getting a little bit sick of being a guest at Whoreador functions."

"Too bad;" Fenris insisted. "Get your ugly mug to Vesuvius. I'll go inside and give Janette a heads up."

Ajax made a disdainful groaning noise that reminded her of an alley cat again. "Fine," he said. Then he faded again into shadows of the alley.

Fenris stepped out of the alley, around the corner in the rain and hustled to the front entrance of the Asylum.

Upon entering, her senses were assaulted with the industrial-techno-rave crap that passed for music in the place. How anyone could listen to that garbage, let alone dance to it was beyond any capacity Fenris had for comprehension. Also, the erratic lighting sequences would be enough to make her want to vomit if she were able. In her mind, it was places like this embodied the cities and amplified them 100-fold. This was the whole reason she wanted out. As she scanned the crowd to see if she could locate Janette, she momentarily lamented sending Ajax to Vesuvius; at least there the lighting and music would be toned down in preparation for the matter concerning Damsel.

Unable to see her, Fenris approached the bar.

"What can I get you, sister?" the bartender, a morbidly obese man covered in tattoos asked, leaning in a little too close.

"I need to speak with Janette!" Fenris shouted into his face, forcing him to back. He glared at her, but quickly realized his attempts at intimidation were to no avail.

"Last I saw she went up to the office," he grumbled. "She had to talk to Therese about something. I saw Therese come down and leave, but..." he hesitated, looked around. "Forget it. She has a way of sneaking past me. There she is on the patio lounge watching the floor." He pointed upwards. Fenris followed his finger and saw Janette. She thanked the bartender and started towards the stairs.

Fenris hated places like this; she found it difficult to use her senses. They tended to get overloaded; especially smell. With so many people wearing so many fragrances, smoking and drinking, sweating from heat, dancing, passion and in some cases outright insanity made for a very annoying stew.

"Janette!" she called.

Janette turned her head with a snap, her pigtails flapping wildly. She saw Fenris and smiled a smile one smiles when one sees an old friend long missed. Before the Malkavian could begin her babbling, Fenris got to the point.

"I don't mean to be rude, but we have to be quick about this," she explained. "On top of Abrams, Gary is dead. The Nosferatu think it was the work of an Assamite. Ajax and I found a hit list where we think he's hiding out, and it looks like Therese is next on his list. Ajax is watching Therese's back, and I need to get you to safety in case he tries to use you as leverage."

Janette cocked her head sideways as if in deep thought. "Are you sure my sister is safe right now?" She asked with a clarity that caught Fenris a little off guard.

"Yes."

"Okay, then," Janette shrugged and started walking casually towards the back of the patio lounge. "I know a place we can go just back here." She said. Fenris realized then that Janette was headed for a fire exit and followed her.

Once outside, Fenris paused to take in the fresh air; she could smell the sea nearby, which was marred really only by the mildly rank smell of garbage from the alley below. Even the subtle smell of cinnamon from Janette was better than the stuffy concoction inside...

...except that Janette always smelled like peppermint.

Fenris barely ducked in time to avoid having her throat slashed open by the Assamite's wickedly curved dagger. As the blade glinted like lightning overhead, she was only vaguely aware that it passed literally soundlessly. She instinctively popped her claws and swiped at her opponents' abdomen, only catch empty air as the Assamite deftly leapt backwards to avoid being gutted. For a moment, she saw that Janette was now a small man standing before her; poised and ready for a fight. Happy to oblige, Fenris lunged forward, claws extended. Still without a single sound, the man greeted her with a spinning heel kick to the side of the head, which knocked her over the fire escape railing and down into the dumpster below. Even as she regained her bearings, the man was jumping down after her; having switched his dagger for a shortsword which was covered in an inky black substance she could only guess was his own blood. She rolled aside and swung wildly with one of her claws. This time, she felt it pierce his flesh; right under his chin. Not much of a wound, but enough to draw first blood. It was also enough to distract the Assamite just long enough for Fenris to renew her attack. She lunged forward, swiping again with her claws and connecting this time across the Assamite's face; raking one his eyes. He let out a sharp cry of pain; the first noise Fenris heard since stepping outside of the Asylum. The Assamite spun, holding his face in his hands, his back now turned to Fenris. Seeing an opportunity, Fenris clocked him at the base of the skull with her forearm, knocking him unconscious.

Fenris retracted her claws and pulled herself and the Assamite out of the dumpster. Wanting to get him to Vesuvius discreetly and before he regained consciousness, Fenris picked the little man up and carried him through the alleyways of Santa Monica towards Mercurio's. At least the rain might wash some of the stink off her by the time she got there.

Marko

"Aw, man!" Knox laughed over the phone so heartily that Marko had to hold it away from his ear. "I really wish you could see this, man! First, Tyler left that creep in dust, then one cab just pulled away the second he tried to approach, and just now another one nailed him with puddle as it zoomed by like he wasn't even there!" Knox laughed again.

_Cabbie won't judge..._

Marko put the phone to speaker so Therese could hear the play by play of Cammie the dirty duckling. She may be wound tight, but she is of Malkav, so a good prank is bound to be appreciated. It's in her blood. Besides, Janette is in that head of hers, too; and she would love this.

"Now he's looking around like he's not sure what to do next," Knox continued. "He's eyeing the clinic, now the all night diner. No, it looks like he's going to check out Tripp's! Aw man, I hope he does! Tripp and me, we go way back, he was the first guy I got hold of for this gag."

A Mona-Lisa smile crossed Therese's lips. She took her glasses off for a second, and for a moment Marko thought Janette was going to come out. No such luck; Therese put her glasses back on as Knox announced that Tripp refused to open the gate just inside his front door and told Cammie he was closed for inventory.

"He looks pretty pissed, man!" Knox could barely contain himself. "I tell you, Bertram's going to love this! I think your guy is starting to figure out what happened, though. He's just heading back to his guy's place. Are those roadblocks up yet?"

Marko glanced out the cab window as the taxi eased past a drinking driving roadblock.

"Yes, yes they are indeed up," Marko confirmed. He spoke next to Therese, who was clearly enjoying the idea of Cameron Hastings suffering in her city. "They know what to do if they see one of his limos, right?"

"Of course," Therese replied in her professional tone. "If there's one thing I excel at in my city it is making sure law and order is well maintained."

On the phone, Knox said, "Oops, I better get inside; someone's coming up the alley. It looks like a chick carrying a guy. So you know I'll be at my buddy Carson's place."

Hanging up, Marko recalled briefly the time he met a bounty hunter named Carson; he was the one who got amputated in the line of duty by Gimble.

_Now Knox does the hunting and Carson does research..._

Ajax

One thing Ajax noticed over the past decade; the Kindred of LA tended to take the Nosferatu lightly. He sometimes wondered if they would be so flippant and glib towards the Clan if they had any idea how many of them there really were, or just how much access to each and every one of the other Kindred they really had through the Warrens under the city sewers. By taking several shortcuts through the Warrens, Ajax was well on his way to Hollywood; and probably way ahead of the Malkavians. Along the way, he picked up lots of juicy morsels, as Bertram liked to call them; The Witch-girl was in Chinatown picking up a Bone of Lies, Damsel and X were already at Vesuvius, and Smiling Jack was back in town, debunking the Setite kiddie porn ring to Nines and Tyler at the Last Round. He was also confirming the Ventrue family conspiracy that Bertram mentioned last night. Apparently the hub of that deal was in San Francisco, under their long-term Prince Ezekiel Hastings.

That was good to know. Ajax would have to remember to look into the possibility of any relation between the Prince of San Francisco and their own resident Ventrue. He already had one of the Clan get word to Bertram about the possible connection.

In fairly short time, Ajax emerged from the tomb in the Hollywood cemetery and was taking back alleys towards Vesuvius. He had decided he would wait outside until Marko and Therese showed up. Gary might have loved this part of town, but Ajax hated it; it was all so fake and pretentious; much like the Clan that claimed it as their Barony.

Xavier

Shortly after Therese and Marko showed up, it occurred to Xavier Vega to check the so-called secret access point for any Nosferatu that might try to use it. He had discovered it about eight years ago when he checked Vesuvius for security reasons. It was well hidden in the crawlspace beneath one of the smaller stages and led to another well hidden entrance into one of the electrical rooms; Xavier would probably have never found it if he didn't actually go looking for this sort of thing or made Auspex a high priority in his disciplines. When he did find it, he considered forgetting to tell VV, but thought better of it; it is her club, after all. She decided to allow it. As little as she thought of the Nosferatu, she said at the time, it is better not to incense them too much. "There are more of them than any of us know," she warned. "They could possibly overwhelm all of Hollywood with sheer numbers."

Still, Xavier reasoned to himself as VV greeted and entertained Therese, Marko and Damsel, there was no reason not to let the Sewer Rats know that we know of their little hidey hole. It might even do some good, he figured, if they knew they were getting into the new Baroness' club only because she allowed them to.

He discreetly opened the electrical room door just as the rigged meter panel began to swing open on the other side. As the panel opened, the odor of chlorine bleach was a little overwhelming. No doubt as to who among the Nos was going to attend tonight.

"No need to obfuscate, Ajax." Xavier said casually. "You were invited to this party anyway."

Wordlessly, Ajax stepped into the room. "How long have you known about this place?"

"Long enough," Xavier said, stepping aside to let Ajax pass into the club itself. The Nosferatu was hard to read; he always wore that weird grin no matter how he felt. Of all the Sewer Rats, Xavier always found Ajax the most unnerving because of that. The others were easy in comparison: Imalia was always upset about something, for example. Mitnick hardly anyone ever saw, but he usually wore his emotions on his sleeve. Barabbas was probably the most humane, and Bertram was so far removed from humanity some wondered if really felt anything at all anymore. Xavier suspected it was a combination of his youth and that ironic poker face of his that got Ajax got the job of clan liaison to the surface world.

"In the main room," he directed Ajax. "Marko and Therese are already here."

"I know," Ajax replied. "Jack, Nines and Tyler are likely to get here next, right after they pick up Skelter."

"What about Fenris?" Xavier asked before thinking. Even as the words came out he realized how bone-headed they were. It was well known that Fenris and Damsel had lots of trouble playing nice together; it was best if they stayed out of each other's way. Chances were just as good that the Gangrel wouldn't show at all.

"She's looking into something that might help clear Damsel," Ajax said as he passed Xavier and headed into the main room. "I gotta talk to Therese about something; now."

Tabetha

The ritual to prepare the bone was way more involved than Tabetha would have thought. It probably took even longer than normal since Max had her do it. She had mixed feelings about that fact; on one hand, she was a little peeved that she did all the work. On the other hand, she was pleases that her Mentor thought her ready for something so advanced. In response to her saying so, Max chuckled mildly and told her she had much yet to learn. That was one of the great things about Clan Tremere; there was always something new to learn.

By the time they were done and finally got to Vesuvius to test her work on Damsel's testimony, it seemed like other than a few Nosferatu, everyone except Cameron and Fenris were there. Even Old Smiling Jack was present. Tabetha glanced over her shoulder to see if Max would reveal any sort of response. It was no secret that Jack had rigged up the entire mess with the Ankaran Sarcophagus, which came perilously close to shattering the Masquerade into irreparable shards. Behind his tinted glasses, Tabetha could see a single eyebrow rise ever so slightly but otherwise he showed nothing.

Whatever the motley crew of Anarchs were talking about fell immediately silent when they came in. All eyes fell on the pair of Tremere. Strauss had told her once that despite everything their clan has done for the good of the Kindred, they were still regarded as 'Usurpers' and therefore never fully trusted. She should expect the others to watch them as closely as they could. Still, to be under this much overt scrutiny was more than a little insulting.

"Please," Strauss said evenly. "Feel free to continue."

"It can wait," Damsel said bitterly; "Let's just this Kangaroo Court crap over with."

"Very well," Strauss capitulated to Damsel's demand. He motioned Tabetha forward with the bone she collected from Ox. Tabetha came forward and noticed how everyone parted to let her pass; like a Red Sea of people. It was as if they feared the bone. She heard someone mutter something but couldn't quite make it out; it sounded like 'not right now' or 'quiet now'. Tabetha guessed it was probably Marko talking to the voices in his head. As she got closer to Damsel, she could see she was trying to conceal her apprehension with disbelief; rolling her eyes in what was supposed to look like disdain. Tabetha suppressed her smile. That was one of the other great things about Clan Tremere; nobody ever wants to mess with the Warlocks if they can at all help it. The real question Tabetha had about Damsel right now was what was it she was really afraid of? Was it that she suspected some kind of set up? Or was it that she knew she was guilty? Deciding it didn't much matter now, Tabetha held the human rib which she acquired from Ox and prepared for this ritual out n front of Damsel.

According to her mentor, all she had to do was ask simple questions and it would blacken if the one who answers tells a lie. "Damsel, did you shoot Isaac Abrams?"

"No, I didn't."

"Did you conspire to have Isaac Abrams shot?"

"No, I didn't." Damsel replied truthfully. The bone remained gleaming white. "Are you happy now? Can we move on?"

"I'll ask the questions for now," Tabetha insisted. "Did you have any reason or ill intent against Isaac Abrams?"

"I think he was a pretentious Cape, but I certainly didn't want him dead."

The bone remained unchanged.

"I think that will be enough, my apprentice," Strauss interjected. "It is clear to all that Damsel was being forthright with her claims. Whoever the shooter is clearly has formidable talents; particularly with the discipline of obfuscate."

Tabetha Toussaint put the bone away just as Ajax spoke up.

"We could be looking for an Assamite," he said, dispensing with formalities. Given the reaction of those present, Tabetha reasoned that mentioning this threat was enough to allow him his abruptness. "He got Gary last night, too. Bertram Tung is now Primogen of the Clan."

Cameron

He couldn't believe this had actually happened. That Bruja actually abandoned him in Santa Monica of all places. Tyler DeFaulte has no idea what he has done; Cameron told himself as he considered his options. That pothead Tripp snubbed him, and it was likely he would meet the same lack of hospitality anywhere he went in this joke of a town. The baroness and her idiot twin set him up for this humiliation and wired there little burg to shut him out. They must have. That meant there was no point in trying to go anywhere other than back to Mercurio. On top of that, their buffoon of a ghoul was tailing him; probably reporting his every move. Cameron thought it strange the ghoul would duck into Mercurio's building as he approached.

"Cameron!" a voice hissed at him as he passed the alley to one side of the building. He paused and peered down the alley in the rain. Drenched, bruised, and carrying a small man in her arms, Fenris Fraust came forward. "We have to get this piece of crap to Vesuvius, ASAP."

From humiliation to a whole new opportunity, Cameron thought. Truly this world does favor the Hastings family.

"What do you mean, 'we'?" He retorted. "Are you asking for my help?"

"What do you think?" She said, barely biting her tongue in time to keep from calling him some derogatory name. She was showing restraint; a rare trait to find in a Gangrel. "Look, I'll owe you a favor of similar value, okay? That's the way you Ventrue like to play it, right?"

Cameron smiled. "If you insist," he replied. "Alright, I'll help you. Let's get your new playmate inside, shall we? I have a call to make."

They went inside and headed straight for Mercurio's suite. The ghoul was on his couch. He stood and greeted them, hanging up his phone as he stood.

"I just got word about what Therese did to you," he said. "Talk about a raw deal. I don't get what she has against you. I've known you for ten years and never had a problem... Who is that?"

"Mercurio," Cameron said gently," I'd like you to meet my associate Fenris Fraust of Clan Gangrel. I'm afraid I don't know the name of her incapacitated playmate..."

"This," Fenris dropped the small man unceremoniously on the floor, "is the Assamite that killed Gary last night, and tried to kill me tonight after I ran interference in his attempts to destroy Therese."

In a panicked flurry, Mercurio kicked the table in front of him over, grabbed a cutlass fastened to the underside, and jumped across the room to lop the Assamite's head off. Once complete, as Cameron and Fenris stood stunned at how quickly the ghoul moved the remains of the Assamite crumbled to ashes on his carpet.

"What the hell, ghoul!" the Gangrel exclaimed.

What the hell is right," Mercurio retorted. "What the hell were you thinking about; bringing an Assamite into my house?"

"We needed him alive," Fenris replied icily, "so we could interrogate him. We need to know who hired him."

"I'll save you the trouble, sister." Mercurio said. "You wouldn't get nothing from him. That's a fact; and the thing with Assamites is they never stop until their target is dead, or they are."

Cameron suppressed a gleeful grin. What Mercurio said was true, but incomplete and inaccurate. With this one dead, their Clan would send another. The only way he knew of to end an Assamite contract was if the target killed his would be assassin. The Ventrue had to think quickly; and already a plan began to form.

"You screwed up, Mercurio," he said, holding up a hand to keep him silent and let him finish. "But since you have served me so well for a decade, I can and will resolve this. You were not his target, so another will be sent to complete his mission. As it stands now, you will be added to the list, but I have the right connections to save your hide. I will put word out that you never saw this Assamite; and that it was in fact Therese Vorman that bested him. This way, it is on record that his target nullified the contract."

"Just to be clear," Fenris interjected, "You're doing this for your ghoul as a favor for his service. I owe you nothing for this mess."

"Yes, of course," Cameron agreed.

"And since your help in getting him to Vesuvius is no longer needed, I owe you nothing; period."

Cameron frowned. That wasn't quite what he had in mind. "Fine," he capitulated reluctantly.

"Good," Fenris said. She turned to leave, saying she would get herself to Hollywood. Cameron made a note that the Gangrel was willing to go to lengths to stay out of debt. That was a problem; but it was one he would deal with another time.

Mercurio started to clean up the ashes while Cameron summoned his limousine on his cell phone.

Chapter 6

Tyler

It was clear that Damsel was still pissed at him when she sat beside Tyler but angled herself to face away from him; but the fact that she sat beside him at all was a good indication to him that she would get over it. While Jack was telling the gathering that the Setite rumor about the child porn empire was nothing more than a line of BS made up by a family of Cammie Ventrue to insert themselves into LA affairs, Tyler let Damsel sit and quietly fume.

"It's how the Hastings family took Portland, Seattle, and Vancouver." Jack said. "We already know Ezekiel has got an iron grip on San Fran; now he's reaching out across the whole state. Oakland and Bakersfield are holding out, but he's entrenched in Sacramento."

Tyler wondered if Cameron was party to this. He was, after all, a Hastings. He noted Damsel gave a sly smile to X. It had the 'I told you so' look to it; Tyler opted to let it go for now.

"Ajax," Tyler said, "you said an Assamite could be behind the killings, right?" Ajax nodded. "So what are the chances that this Assamite was hired by the Hastings' to destabilize the peace?"

"That," Nines chimed in, "sounds like the kind of thing a bunch of Cammie capes would do; hire a bunch of assassin thugs to get their dirty while they sit back all nice and clean in their Ivory Tower."

Tyler nodded at Nines. "I think we might want to ask our friend _Cameron Hastings _what he knows about his family and their activities once he deigns to grace us with his appearance." He turned to Strauss and Tabetha. "While we're waiting, why not ask our Camarilla contingent what they know about the Hastings family?"

"Don't look at me," Tabetha countered. "This is as much news to me as it is to you."

Strauss leaned forward onto the table he and his student sat at. "Ezekiel Hastings has been silent with me lately," he said in his carefully measured tones. "I was aware of his family moving northward through information provided via Clan lines of communication in the Vancouver Chantry, but that is all."

"Obviously we are looking at this backwards," Therese interjected. That came as no real surprise; she was just told that she was the next target, and was only barely satisfied by Marko's assurances that Janette was safe. "If we want to know who hired this Assamite, we need to capture him and question him. Then of course we eliminate him. Since I'm his next target, I should execute him and then end the contract."

As this point was being confirmed as the likely best course to take, Tyler turned his attention to Damsel. "Hey Damsel..." He started to say only to be silenced by her with a finger put up to his lips.

"I get it, Tye," she said. "You got faked out. Don't tell me you're sorry. Just shut the fuck up about it, I'll get over it."

Tyler nodded. That was about as close to peace on the issue they were going to get for now. Damsel pulled her finger back just as Fenris came bustling through the front door.

Fenris

"Damsel didn't shoot anybody." Fenris announced. "It was an Assamite; he made himself look like her to frame her. He nearly got me when I caught him disguised as Janette."

Therese stood bolt straight at the mention of her sisters' name. "Where is she? Is she alright? I swear if she's harmed in any way..."

"I promise you she's fine, Baroness," Marko took hold of her arm. "After Isaac got shot I made sure she was safe, just like you commanded." Therese looked at Marko and sat back down, clearly agitated at the thought of Janette being in harm's way. Fenris thought that odd since the two of them were always bickering. She reasoned then that it must be the fact they were sisters twice over, whatever disagreements they might have. Marko regarded her. "And where is the Assamite now?"

"He's dead." Fenris replied.

"You foolish Gangrel" Therese exclaimed, "We needed him alive to question him and to remove him in a way we could end the contract!"

Swallowing her pride, Fenris allowed the Malkavian her little tantrum. Given the circumstance, it was understandable. "I know that, Baroness," she said as soothingly as she could. "I took him to Mercurio's. He freaked out and killed him. Cameron was there, and he promised that he would arrange things to look like you nailed the Assamite." That seemed to calm Therese down. She mumbled something about be able to live with a debt to Cameron.

Xavier Vega spoke; "It sounds like he might know something we don't. Like maybe who hired the Assamite in the first place."

"I agree," Fenris replied, taking a seat beside Skelter, "One of them, anyway."

Skelter looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean one of them?"

"The one Mercurio killed is the one who killed Gary. The one who shot Isaac has a totally different smell."

"You mean there's another one in town?" Nines asked.

"At least," Fenris confirmed.

Jack whistled. "Wow, Old Zeke really means business about taking LA."

Marko cocked his head to an angle, as if listening to someone talking in an earpiece. Slowly he turned his gaze towards Ajax. "By any chance, cleaning agent, do you happen to have something from the dead Assamite?"

Marko

If he could have, blinked, Ajax would have. Mark Oxford was sure of that. The Network just informed him that the Nosferatu had a letter and a card.

"Yeah," Ajax confirmed. He handed a piece of paper and a card to him. The card was one of the Baroness' club cards and not much interest to Marko. The paper, however, was another story altogether; on it was a list of names which were probably targets. Marko set the card on the table in front of him and held the list in both hands.

Using his abilities with Auspex, Marko attempted to get an imprint off the paper's history:

_A small man in a big room; it's an office. The small man is at a desk, writing down the names being dictated to him by another man. The names he's writing are the names on the paper. He adds Strauss to the list as an afterthought. The small man looks up from the desk to the man dictating the names; the second man looks a lot like an older version of Cameron, but with long hair, and a much older suit kept in perfect condition. He has a feel to him that suggests he is only barely human. _

Marko dropped the paper and described what he saw off it. The Wolf Girl confirmed that the small man was the Assamite she discovered. Jack was able to confirm that the second man had to be Ezekiel Hastings.

"I'll tell you one thing," Jack added. "If there is ever one Ventrue that I have even an iota of respect for, it's Old Zeke. We've been at each other a long time, he and I; with a rivalry like ours it's hard to not gain some respect for each other."

"Great," Tyler interjected. "So now we know Cameron is probably related to the Prince of San Francisco. Odds are good they're in bed together somehow."

_Beware the snake in the Emperor's lap._

"You say that you and the Emperor have a history," Marko said to Jack. "May I mine your grey matter?"

"Sure thing kiddo," Jack replied. "Fire away."

"Do you know, by any chance, if the Emperor has a love interest, or maybe an advisor, maybe?"

"Old Zeke holds Primogen Councils twice a month," Jack answered. "I don't know for sure, but word on the street is that he and the Toreador Primogen have a thing going on. Seeing how much he favors her, the rumor makes sense. I can't say I blame him, though; she's got curves in all the right places." Jack chuckled.

_There's a Serpent in the Roses._

"I know the Primogen of San Francisco," X announced. "Cassandra has sent a few promising acts my way."

"I see." Marko replied. "I see as clear as stained glass. May I mine some more?"

Both Jack and X concurred.

"Good. Is there any chance that the Roses might have been infiltrated by the Serpents?" Marko asked.

Xavier blanched at the question. VV adjusted herself in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with the notion. Marko didn't need the Network to tell him why; if the Setites worked their way into the Toreador Clan, then they may have opened the door to let the Serpents in without even knowing it. Xavier glanced at VV, who nodded slowly.

"I'll look into it." He said, getting up to leave the room.

"I'll see what I can dig up on Cammie," Ajax volunteered. Again, Marko needed no help from the Network. Ajax wanted a little payback for Gary. Nobody made a move to stop the Nosferatu from leaving.

Ajax

Ajax wasted no time getting downtown and to the Skyline apartments. Along the way, he dropped word off that he was following a lead that Cameron might be making moves that screw with the Clan, and maybe had something to do with Gary's murder. Just below the Clan entrance to the Skyline, Ajax paused to calm himself down a little. Going into frenzy would do no good. Once settled, he let himself up into the building, and then into the ventilation system to get to Cameron's apartment. He wasn't too worried about his ghoul. She was probably managing the hotel that he bought. As for the Ventrue himself, Ajax actually hoped he was home; the Nosferatu was in the mood to grind some bones to get some answers.

Peering through the grate in the vent which led to the living room, it looked to Ajax like he would not be so lucky. He continued up to the bedroom grate, and checked the one in the closet as well; on the off chance he was heard and someone was waiting in ambush for him. Nobody was home.

Disappointed, Ajax quietly removed the grate and climbed through into the closet and out into the bedroom. Ignoring the decor, he headed for the desk upon which a laptop computer sat. It was one the Mitnick built. Ajax could hardly believe that Cameron would actually be making this so easy. He shrugged at the Ventrue's apparent foolishness and booted the computer up; it was password protected, not that that mattered. All of Mitnick's models had codes embedded in them so all Clan Nosferatu could easily hack them. The only trick was finding the right back door. That was okay, too. Ajax knew them all.

He ran them; one by one until one of them opened. Once in, he decided to check Cammie's emails. There was nothing too interesting in his inbox; apparently he avoided doing things digitally or at least on this unit. In his outbox; however, there was one message to at tower dot com. It read:

There has been a hiccup; our man is down. The contract is valid; the blood is on a wolf named Skelter. Request a new man be sent post haste.

"You Cammie son of a bitch, Hastings," Ajax muttered. He had found all he needed to know; Cameron was in on the Hastings family plot. Having a thought, he went back to the inbox to browse more closely. Sure enough; he found something written in a decently subtle code. It was an invitation to come and see a resort and enjoy a new nightclub in Sacramento, sponsored by the Hastings Tower Corporation.

Being true to his Clan, Ajax promptly forwarded both messages he found to Mitnick and Bertram via the Shrek net. He could keep that news within the Clan until they decided just what they wanted to do with it. They could just come forward with damning evidence against Cameron and therefore the Camarilla contingent in LA, or they could hold it over their collective heads and put their collective asses in a sling.

Taking a few seconds to remove all traces of him even being on the computer, he then logged out, and shut down. Once he was satisfied that he had everything exactly the way he found it and that there was no evidence he was ever even in the suite, he made his way back to the sewers.

In the building cellar, just as he was about to go through the access point he detected a presence there with him. Looking around, he activated his Potence to his maximum and clutched a broken two-by-four to use as a stake if the need arose. He searched the cellar, and then standing right in front of him was a scaly creature; humanoid in shape but covered with a hide that resembled the skin of a snake. The thing hissed at him before he plunged the makeshift stake into its chest, driving it all the way through its back. The thing reeled back a step, looking down at the wood impaled through it. Then it looked back up Ajax, and locked eyes with him.

Suddenly Ajax couldn't move; it was like the thing with its serpentine eyes had paralyzed him with its gaze.

"Now it's my turn," the thing hissed at him again before its tongue lashed out and nailed him square between the eyes, stunning him enough to cause him to reel back a step. Then the thing inhaled deeply and exhaled some kind of burning sand all over his skin. Ajax spun away, shrieking in pain. The thing easily pulled the two-by-four out of its chest and in turn plunged it into his chest. Its strike wasn't as through and through as his, but it was enough to pierce his heart and sink him into torpor.

Xavier

In quarters which he shared part time with Velvet towards the back of her Club, Xavier let out a subtle sigh of relief. Based on his findings, though the Toreador Clan in San Francisco had been compromised, it appeared the damage on the West Coast had been mitigated to that city alone. It wounded him that something must have happened to Cassandra, but at least whatever it was had not yet spread too far.

Because of his Pit, Xavier Vega had good relations with several prominent members of the music guild within the Clan across the country. This included no small number of Primogen within the cities they dwelt in, and even included one Prince; Stewart Bluenote of Nashville, Tennessee. Granted, he was often excluded from invites to parties, but he was well known and even revered by many in the Clan for nearly losing his life and, in the eyes of many, sacrificing his soul in order to destroy Andrei the Tzimizce ten years ago.

He had just finished viewing the responses he sent to each of his connections. In each, he asked the same question, designed to be a verification code to their identity; each was supposed to answer the question in a very specific manner. All of them, except for Cassandra, replied correctly.

He also received a request for a Skype conversation from Charity; former Primogen and now Harpy of Vancouver British Columbia. He accepted the request and engaged.

On his monitor, Charity appeared in the south wing of her gallery; behind her was the south entrance. He could tell from the series of paintings that spanned over the arch of the entrance, each depicting the path of the sun across the sky. Charity herself was radiant as always; her platinum hair tied smartly in a ponytail to accent her eyes which were as blue as the waters of Tahiti. Xavier made a point of not looking directly into his monitor for too long; lest the Clan curse take hold.

"We have just finished up with a Gathering of all Kindred here," she told him. "Oliver gave us the news."

That was the answer Xavier was looking for. Once again, it appeared the compromise was isolated.

"Thank you, Charity," Xavier nodded at the camera.

"Now, to be serious," Charity added. "We really did just finish, and Oliver really did bear news." The tone in her voice suggested this news was not very good. Oliver was the Sheriff of Vancouver, a Nosferatu. "He tells us his intelligence agents have detected large shipments of heroin being funneled through Vancouver all over the continent; probably courtesy of some snake or another."

That wasn't good, but it could be much worse. "Thank you," Xavier said. "We will keep watch for that."

"There's more. It's believed that within those shipments is a mummy headed for Los Angeles." Charity said. "Unfortunately we don't know who it is. If the serpents are keeping it quiet enough even Oliver can't find out, it has to be someone very important to them."

"I see." Xavier said quietly. "What is Daniel doing about it?"

"For now, all he really can do is delay the shipment. As you know, Prince Hastings is still a new thing to most of the Kindred here, so there are many who are not yet ready to trust him completely."

"So not everyone in Vancouver is behind the Hastings Empire?" He looked at the monitor long enough to catch a moment of surprise in her face.

"I take it Jack made it home, then." She concluded. "No, as a matter of fact, hardly anybody here likes the idea of one family of Ventrue holding the reins of power along the coast. Daniel himself is a Hastings, but insists he is not party to the Empire. Many are dubious of his claim. That is why I was given the role of Harpy by the Court; to keep an eye on him."

"Your court chose well." He smiled. "So why are they sending this mystery mummy here?"

"Again, we don't know. Whatever it is, it has Oliver in a near panic. He says his theory is conjecture, but he believes it might be either their founder or one of his first children."

There was no need to explain how bad that would be. Xavier thanked Charity again and indicated he would inform the council immediately. Charity asked him to greet Velvet for her.

"I will," X promised. Charity and VV had a long history together. As a thought, he asked. "By any chance do you know why she's so freaked out by the Followers of Set?"

Charity was silent. She pouted in contemplation, and finally said, "They did things to her. To both of us, really; it's amazing neither of us burned out totally. Can we please just leave it at that?"

Xavier nodded and they said their parting greetings.

Tabetha

X rejoined the Gathering; though his outward expression was one that appeared to be as confident as ever, Tabetha sensed a degree of melancholy in him. Before he said anything to anyone else, he sat beside Velvet and whispered something in her ear. She whispered something back, and he nodded. His expression revealed a distinct level of relief.

"If there has been an infiltration within the Clan," he said aloud to the group, "it has been isolated to San Francisco for the time being. However, a friend of mine in Vancouver has given me a heads up on large shipments of heroin being dispersed from there across the continent. The Nosferatu there believe it to be Setite in origin."

"Your sources are good, Toreador, I'll give you that." A gravelly voice said from the far end of the club. Everyone turned to the spot the voice came from and saw Bertram Tung standing there, dour faced as usual. "Care to tell them the rest of the story, or shall I?"

"How did you..."

"We can talk about how I got past your so called security measure, fledgling, or we can discuss the real threat the Serpents pose." Bertram interrupted. Since nobody spoke to that, he continued. "Within a shipment of that heroin coming here to Los Angeles, there is also supposed to be a mummy that Oliver believes is the Kindred the snakes claim is Set himself."

Everyone was silent.

Tabetha had been researching what the Tremere knew of the Followers of Set, and had a pretty good idea what was being implied; the Setites were gearing up to wake their progenitor and begin the final stages of their endgame.

"So what is being done about it?" she asked.

"For now," Xavier chimed in, "Prince Daniel Hastings is holding the vessel with that shipment in his city."

"Before you ask, fledgling, Oliver figures that the only Serpent old enough or powerful enough to wake the mummy properly is here in LA." Bertram answered her next question. "We don't know why they can't get him up there." He paused, looked towards the front entrance. "Welcome to the party, Ventrue. I'm sure we're all thrilled to see you."

"I have no doubt." Cameron said, swaggering into the gathering and casually tossing his coat onto a chair beside Tabetha, placing her square in between him and Strauss. Sitting down, he continued. "Pardon my tardiness, I was unavoidably detained."

"Then I trust your affairs in my city are taken care of?" Therese asked.

Cameron turned to face Therese. "Yes, Baroness, they are. Thank you for your hospitality."

"And what about the Assamite mess," Fenris blurted. "Is that taken care of too?"

"Yes, of course it is." He replied forcing patience. "I said I would deal with that, didn't I?"

Out of curiosity, Tabetha took the bone out again, but kept it under the table. "So the Assamites believe that Therese Vorman destroyed him, and that contract is void. Is this true?"

"Yes, it's true." Cameron said. "Are done with this line of questions now? Can we move on to whatever it was that you were talking about when I came in?"

While X caught him up, Tabetha looked down at the bone; it had turned black. Cameron was lying.

Cameron

About 24 hours ago, Cameron Hastings was wondering if a Kindred in a torpid state from a stake in the heart was aware of what was going on around him. Now, he knew the answer to his personal inquiry. The fact of the matter was that he was aware, but couldn't make much sense of anything. It was like a waking dream or a nightmare within a nightmare that he couldn't wake from no matter how he tried. Now that he knew, he wouldn't wish anything like this on his worst enemy. He was almost certain his eyes were open, but all he saw was absolute darkness. He was almost certain someone or something put him here; wherever here was. He had no idea who or what they were. He could remember the moments before being staked, but only barely:

After the hassle with roadblock after roadblock out of Santa Monica, he finally made it to his apartment. Heather wasn't home; nor did he expect her to be. She was meant to be at the hotel. He used the time alone to freshen up; change his clothes, fix his hair, that sort of thing. Then he sent the message to Prince Ezekiel framing Skelter the Gangrel for the destruction of the Assamite. The idea was to have the contract active until the remaining Barons were destroyed and Skelter as well in order to demoralize that little bitch of his. He already figured they would take a shot at Strauss; though he doubted they would have any success. Satisfied with his work, he logged out and turned around to face himself, grinning at himself maliciously before impaling himself with the stake. As he crumpled to the floor, a set of arms caught him and carried him away. Next he remembered a transport of some kind; a van, maybe. People were with him; laughing. One of them might have said something about the Nosferatu, but he wasn't sure.

Was the Nosferatu who did this? He wasn't sure. Was he in the Warrens? He didn't know. Was Bertram behind this? He didn't think so. Bertram had nothing to gain from this. If anything, Bertram stood to lose by going against him; he would lose a great opportunity to be placed high in the Hastings Court. Cameron meant to give him a very good position; Sheriff, at the very least, or maybe even Harpy.

Something else was happening. He was being moved again. He was falling deeper into the surreal state he was already in. Is this what final death is like?

* * *

Author's note: I apologize for the redundant format; I haven't figured out how to post each chapter as a separate document :(

Chapter 7

Tyler

Tyler wasn't buying what Cameron was selling; not for a second. First off, he actually thanked Therese, like he meant it. Second, he didn't so much as glance his way, let alone approach him after the Gathering. Third, he was being an impatient dick, sure, but he wasn't being rude about it. It was like Cammie was trying to suck up or something; definitely trying to make a sale of some kind. All Tyler knew for sure was that he wasn't buying it. Leaving Vesuvius, he hustled to catch up to Damsel, Nines, and Jack.

"Listen, Tye," Damsel piped in, "I already told you we were ok, alright? We don't need to do any heart to heart about it or anything like that. Just drop it, ok?"

Puzzled, Tyler frowned, and then realized what she was getting at. "This isn't about that! Shit, girl, hanging out with X must have gotten to you; all of the sudden you're an egomaniac."

Damsel pouted; that was a good sign. It was her way of saying maybe he should try to take the ego out of her. Apparently his attempt at banter was the right move. "What is it about then?" she asked.

"It's Cameron, man." Tyler said. "He's up to something."

"What else is new?" Nines countered. "He's a Ventrue, kid; and Camarilla to boot. Remember what I told you ten years ago; the Camarilla's full of shit."

Jack waved Nines off and turned his attention to Tyler. "Tell us what's on your mind, kiddo. What've you got on him?"

Nines and Damsel got real quiet. Jack had a way about him; if he was around, others couldn't help but follow his lead and take his call on matters serious. If he thought Tyler might be on to something, Tyler would get his chance to spit it out. Nines Rodriguez was great at what he did, but often he got onto a track and would not deviate from it. Tyler always thought that was both an asset and a liability, depending on the situation. Damsel had tremendous spirit and passion, she was quick thinking when it was needed, but again she could get so passionate about her ideals she sometimes got blinded by them. Jack was different. If he thought someone had something new to add, he would hear it out. If he thought you were off, he had no problem letting you know it; but if he thought you might be on the ball, you would know that, too.

Tyler said. "Was I the only one noticed how polite he was acting? I mean, for him, anyway? You'd think he want words with me after how I set him up; but nothing. And Therese; she was in on it, but he thanked her like nothing happened. I've seen him do business; it looks a lot like that, but different.

"You notice how cool he was about the Setites? It was like he figured he already had everything under control. I'm telling you; he's trying to sell some line of bull. We gotta watch it with him."

Jack, Nines, and Damsel all looked at each other.

"Sun's coming up soon." Nines said finally. "Whatever you've got in mind kid, it better be quick, or it'll have to wait."

Tyler glanced around. Across the parking lot, he saw Tabetha talking with Marko and Therese, discreetly showing them the bone she used on Damsel. It was black now instead of gleaming white. Strauss was waiting nearby, looking like he was eager to leave, clearly aware how soon it would be until the sun rose. Tyler headed towards them. By the time he got there, Tabetha had said her piece and joined Strauss on their way to their Chantry. Cameron was long gone in his limo; and Bertram was nowhere to be seen.

Fenris

Before having to endure watching X and VV do whatever it is they do behind closed doors, Fenris and Skelter got out of Vesuvius. Outside, Fenris noted Tyler was talking to Marko and Therese; most likely about that club network thing Tyler was going on about awhile back at the Last Round, she figured. Nines, Jack, and Damsel were at the other end of the parking lot, huddled together in what looked to her like a football huddle. The two of them headed for the huddle.

Damsel glanced in their direction as they approached and broke off a couple of paces. She waited for them, arms crossed over her chest, wearing her usual scowl that suggested disapproval as she eyed Fenris. Once they got close enough, Fenris stopped in front of her and Skelter continued to join the boys.

"Let me guess, Gangrel," Damsel said, "this is the part where get on me about how you saved my ass, right?"

Fenris rolled her eyes. "Look, Dame," she countered; knowing full well the Brujah loathed being called that. "It's no secret that you and I aren't exactly BFF's. We probably never will be. Despite that, I'm not going to let you get set up like that. You deserve better than that."

Damsel's glare softened a little. Fenris wondered if the Brujah was aware the subtle tells she let out. Somehow she doubted it.

"Yeah, that's cool." She said finally. Damsel made a fist and held it out in front of her. "Thanks, alright? I owe you one. Just don't go advertizing, alright?"

Fenris made a fist of her own and bumped it to Damsel's. "Don't worry. I get it." Fenris replied. "You have a reputation to keep up, badass."

Damsel almost cracked a smile. "Don't forget it, unless you want your ears wrapped around your chin."

Fenris scoffed. "Try it, bitch." She glanced casually over at Tyler. "So what's that all about? His club network idea?"

"No," Damsel said matter- of -factly. "That is Tyler putting up the idea that Cammie is selling more bullshit. He figures the Ventrue is in on the Hastings thing Jack was talking about."

Fenris raised an eyebrow. "It makes sense. Cameron is a Hastings Ventrue. What I don't get is why go and tell Therese? Last I checked she was a Camarilla wannabe, except Janette won't have it."

"Good point," Damsel sniffed. "A bunch of us are meeting at the Last Round tomorrow night. Join us."

Fenris nodded. "I just might do that."

Tyler left the Malkavians and headed back towards them just as Skelter parted from Nines and Jack. Damsel and Tyler rejoined their Clan mates, and she and Skelter headed off to retreat into the dark before daylight came.

Marko

_Be careful..._

The Network was warning him. They were being vague, but Marko didn't really need specifics. Agents from both the Camarilla and the Baronies were wary of Cammie the Cammie. Tabby Cat from the Camarilla told them Lord Hastings was a liar, just like the Network told him; and Tye D. Bear of the Anarch Movement told them how things weren't adding up. The bear was right, of course; when two and two were put together it kept coming up twenty two. The problem was...

"How much do we take the word of a Tremere to heart?" The Baroness finished his thought for him. "On one hand, a Hastings City might not be a bad thing. On the other hand, if the Hastings's are being aided by the Setites, do we really want to get involved with them?"

It wasn't so much that the Baroness was wrong, but Marko couldn't help but see the flaw in her logic. "If the Tremere are in bed with the Hastings family, why would they warn us of things being amiss?"

Therese smiled coldly. "You're still young." She said. "Never underestimate the Byzantine ways of Clan Tremere. They never do anything without a reason, and there is always some motive that benefits them as a clan first and foremost. Always be careful when dealing with the Warlocks, neonate."

Marko nodded. "Yes Baroness," he agreed. "Since I don't think you'd much like the Last Round, and clearly don't trust the Wizard, how about if tomorrow night I go off to see the Wizard, and you send Janette to play with the wolves and the bears. Then we both report to you what we find so you can make up our minds?"

There was a round of golf clap applause from the Network.

"I'm not sure I care for the hint of sarcasm I detect in your tone," the Baroness said meaningfully, "but that is actually a good idea. Janette could use a night out, and I'm sure her demeanor will win over the likes that would frequent a place like that better than I would. This way we can find out who our allies really are."

True to form, Therese began to script out all that she expected Marko to watch for and how to respond to any number of eventualities that might take place in the Tremere Chantry when he was there. Marko listened intently and swore he would follow her instructions to the letter. He also listened carefully to the Network people and their insights; they were yet to steer him wrong, unless of course whenever he got their directions wrong somehow.

Ajax

Ajax was used to sleeping with his eyes open. He'd been doing it on a daily basis for the last ten years. In a lot of ways it was actually helpful; as long as he kept his back to a wall when he slept, it made him a lot harder to sneak up on.

This was different. For one thing, the two-by-four impaled into his chest and piercing his heart hurt like a son of a bitch. There was more to it than that, though. In this state, he couldn't tell for sure if what he was could even be called 'asleep'. Though he was dimly aware of what was going on around him, he had no clear idea where he was; there was no context. All there was around him was darkness. Occasionally there were voices in the dark, but it was all gibberish. This was like a waking dream or nightmare. In the gibberish he was fairly certain he heard 'Hastings' and 'Ventrue' more than once. He also thought the word 'Sutekh' came up far too often for his liking. When it was spoken, it appeared to be said with a kind of reverence.

Was that thing a Setite? Did they have some kind of battle form? Was that where he was now? Was 'Sutekh' their word for Set? Were they trying to brainwash him?

For the first time in his admittedly short unlife, Ajax was afraid. Sure, he'd been in real danger where final death could very well be right n front of him before; lots of times. That had been pretty much the norm since his embrace. Final death wasn't what scared him. Being controlled by the will of another was what terrified him. Yeah, he often found himself having to do what anybody with a week seniority told him, but he always had a choice in the matter. Being made a puppet, like what could be the case right now, that is what made him want to shit himself. For something like that, he could only think of one defense; shut everything out, except for trying to find a way out of wherever it was that he was.

"Hang tight, mate," a voice in the dark whispered in his ear. It was a voice he knew, but couldn't quite place. "It took me most of the night to find you. We're too far out of the way and the sun's too close to comin' up to bust you out just yet, so hang tight."

Was it Barabbas? Or was it a trick?

"I owe you from Chinatown, so I'll get you out of here." He whispered. "I know you can hear me, mate. Come sundown, I'll pull that wood out of you, and Imalia gave me some of the red, red kroovy to tide you over. So hang tight."

The voice that might be Barabbas fell suddenly silent as the noise of shuffling passed them by. Maybe they were cloaked. Maybe this was a trick. It was so hard to be sure. The shuffling drifted away.

"I'm not leaving you here. We gotta be still, though. These snakes have their ghouls all over their hideout. While we're here, try to pay attention to what you see and hear. Bertram wants whatever leverage we can get on these bastards."

What the voice was saying was both right and wrong. If it was a trick, the Setites had an inside track on their ranks. That was bad. If he did listen, he might end up being an unwitting mole. That was worse. Ajax decided the only course he could take was to shut it all out except the thought that maybe Barabbas was here to get him out. He could sort out the rest after that.

Xavier

"Are you...sure..." VV asked, "That Cassandra is compromised?"

Xavier gave it careful thought. His contact in San Francisco missed the code, and didn't give a duress signal. While it was true that Cassandra wasn't a fan of the 'cloak and dagger crap', she did finally concur it was a necessity. Compromised wasn't really the word he thought fit the scenario; destroyed seemed more likely.

"Yes, VV," he said finally, "I'm pretty sure. I'm sorry. I know you, Charity, and her were very close once. I wish things were different."

VV let out a small moan that sounded a lot like a mourning weep. "Poor Cassandra..." she said quietly, a single crimson tear streaming down her cheek.

Xavier leaned into her and licked the tear away with just the tip of his tongue. That put a faint smile on her lips.

"I'll tell you what." Xavier offered. "First thing in the evening, I'll head out to San Fran to see what I can find out for sure. If it's as bad as I think it is, I will find whoever did this to her and make them pay a hundred fold."

"No!" VV blurted. "It's far too dangerous. I can't bear the thought...of losing you, too."

Xavier smiled reassuringly. "If I can take down Andrei, I'm pretty sure I can handle Ezekiel or whatever else might be there." He said with mock bravado. It didn't have the effect he was hoping for; VV still looked mortified at the idea. He held her face gently in his hands. "I promise I'll be careful." He vowed somberly and sealed the vow with a kiss.

VV nodded, albeit reluctantly. "It's time to retire for the day." She announced, taking his hand in hers. "Care to...join me?" she invited as she stood up.

Xavier stood. "It would be my pleasure and an honor, lover." He said.

Tabetha

With an alarm clock set in her quarters at the Chantry to let her know the sun was about to crest upon the horizon, Tabetha Toussaint got to work. She put aside all the news of the night, all the speculations about Cameron – who was definitely lying about his arrangements regarding the Assamites – and how deeply involved with the Hastings Empire he might actually be, and focused all her faculties on what to do about the coming of the Followers of Set...

...or at least she tried to.

On the ride home, Max made it clear that he was wary of the Hastings family. He was yet to gain any hard evidence, but he had suspicions about them. He believed their entire bloodline was tied to the Setites; either as willing converts or through some form of coercion. He had allowed Cameron to join their ranks in Los Angeles in the hopes that by placing him under Camarilla care early he would be spared the influence of the corruptors. It was starting to look like that hope was in vain. This was a problem.

"Enough of that," Tabetha said aloud to herself. "Time is short; and none can be wasted."

While sunlight was the bane of all Kindred, this is especially true of the Serpent Clan; she remembered reading. This captured her thoughts; what if there was a way to safely harness the sun's rays and use them as a weapon? Or would a facsimile to sunlight be sufficient? Perhaps with a Setite it would; apparently any form of light would cause discomfort, and that alone can give any opponent of Set a tremendous advantage.

Perhaps a conjuring would work. She wrote that onto the whiteboard Max had provided her. She doubted she would have much success there; since conjuring had more to do with objects than energy. Lure of flames would be handy, and she had learned to create flames on the palm of her hand, but again that wasn't quite what she was looking for. Levinbolt could also be very handy, and may be a step in the right direction – perhaps as close as she could get. That idea went onto the whiteboard. She also included the prospect of a reversal of Shadowcrafting (which was nowhere near the same as the Lasombra ability).

The most likely angle appeared to be in weather control; though the obvious problem would be how would a Kindred safely compel the sun to rise?

She wondered if maybe a ritual could be devised; to capture sunlight in a bottle. Her research found nothing of the sort. She supposed anything was possible; one only needed to figure out how.

Her alarm went off. She glanced out her window, which faced the north; and still could see the sky was getting subtly lighter. She looked at the whiteboard and could already see her handwriting was beginning to get sluggish; like an insomniac's scrawl.

"Damn!" she hissed. It was starting to look like her best options would be to either advance with lure of flames or try to learn the Levinbolt; which she saw only once before when she and Xavier were the ones to get closest to Andrei at the Hollowbrook. Begrudgingly, she closed the shutters to her window to block the sun entirely, and placed the whiteboard in front of that, the writing facing inside, for an extra measure, and set to retire until the sun set again in the West.

Cameron

This was the last place Cameron Hastings would have expected to come to; both in location and in situation. Though the surroundings were surprisingly pleasant, the scenario itself left much to be desired.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. The air was filled with an incense of sandalwood and some spice he was not familiar with. The room, apparently a bed chamber, had no windows and was decorated with a clear Egyptian theme. It evoked an image of a place a Pharaoh might sleep. A girl, naked and very dead, was at his feet; and from the taste of her in his mouth he was quite certain he was the one who had drained her. As was always the way, he knew all about her; she was exactly the type to fit into his particular tastes. The right type, and of good stock; she was a on her way to a very promising career. Of course, that was clearly all in the past tense, now. It was obvious to him he had awoken in a frenzy and ended her life.

"Oh, don't worry," a voice at the door told him. "We have everything covered. Your Masquerade is perfectly safe, and we'll certainly never tell a soul of your little infraction."

Cameron looked up and saw a man standing at the door, dressed in what looked like ceremonial robes – also with an Egyptian theme – holding a jar. It was too dark to tell for sure, but his dialect and what Cameron could make of his features suggested he was most likely Spanish, possibly mixed with Middle Eastern.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Where am I? Why have you brought me here, and what do you want from me?"  
The man chuckled. "So many questions and not once do you ask about the morality of your recent actions; how delightful." He stepped into the room as Cameron looked again at the girl.

"What happened to her is tragic, but I can't undo it. All I could do is make it worse now." He said. "But then, since I'm here against my will, as I imagine she was, then ultimately you caused this. Whatever morality there is involved is on you. Answer my questions."

"How very Ventrue of you, Hastings; you take the stance of authority even when you clearly don't have it." The man said in a tone that was not hostile, but held a subtle yet clear threat in it. "To answer your questions; I have had many names. Most of them are probably beyond your ability to pronounce, so you may call me Alejandro. You are in my home; still in California, I assure you. I do apologize for the manner you were brought here. It was for both our protection. You see, Hastings, our paths were meant to cross, and we are going to be very good friends, you and I. I know this may be hard for you to believe now, but you will see soon enough. You see, we are going to help each other get what we both want most of all."

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "You don't say? Tell me, if you can, what is that?"

Alejandro grinned and winked. "What I want is not important yet; but you want Los Angeles. You want to be a part of your family empire."

"And I'm supposed to believe you can make that happen."

"The Hastings Empire started with me, and it will continue with me."

Cameron didn't like the sound of that. This Alejandro was making it sound as if his entire family was little more than puppets. He didn't want to believe that.

"I know what you're thinking, and you couldn't be more off the mark." Alejandro said. "By no means are any of your Princes on the West Coast puppets. All I mean is that my Clan was instrumental in making all you have gained possible. It is with our help that all the hard work of Ezekiel Hastings has borne fruit."

Cameron nodded slowly. "Let's say I believe you,' he said. "Let's say that I believe that you've been helping us along all along. What's in it for you?"

Alejandro sighed. "It's always the same thing with the Ventrue; always about some kind of business transaction. There's always got to be some kind of exchange of profit. What if I told you the reward for us was that the right people were finally in authority. Would that be so unbelievable?"

Cocking his head slightly to an angle, Cameron waved a finger. "You're the one who started talking exchange." He reminded Alejandro. "You said that we are going to help each other get what we both want most."

"I meant the success of your family, Hastings." The Setite said with a shrug.

"I don't think so." Cameron replied. "But for the sake of argument, what can I do to help you?"

Alejandro smiled and chortled lightly. "Very well, young Hastings," he said warmly. "Right now, there is a ship in Vancouver, the Ishtar's tear, with a shipment of illicit substances being held up by an errant member of your family."

"Let me guess," Cameron interrupted. "You need me to contact this errant Hastings to let your boat go."

Alejandro held up a single forefinger. "Not at all; we are willing to sacrifice that shipment completely. The substances on it would be traced to a Chinese Cartel should it be seized by the police. What I need for you to do is ensure that Daniel Hastings focuses all his attention and energy on that ship, and ensure that the trains keep running as scheduled."

"I see." Cameron said, stroking his chin. "You're asking me to help you pull a swerve."

Alejandro said nothing.

"Okay," Cameron went on. "Suppose I play along. How is this going to help us?"

Alejandro laughed. "Have faith, Hastings." He said. "Before you even know what is happening, you will be the hero of your small Camarilla group, and soon enough of the city. The Anarchs will find themselves in a place where only the Camarilla can keep them alive, and have little choice but accept your reign and the family legacy. The sun rises soon. Rest here for the day, and think it over." With that Alejandro turned to leave.

Cameron smiled. A plan began to formulate itself in his mind. He would play along with the Setites, and then become the man who ousts them; and thus becomes the hero. He would have to be patient, and careful, but he could very well become the hero of the entire Hastings legacy.

Alejandro stopped, turned around at the door. "I suppose it's only fair to mention this," he added, as if it was an afterthought. He held up the jar. "In case you are thinking of any treachery, you would be wise to remember that I hold your heart in my hand."

With an oily smile, Alejandro vanished into the darkness beyond the room. Cameron put himself onto the bed. He closed his eyes wondering if Alejandro was bluffing, and if he dared to call that bluff...

Chapter 8

Tyler

As he and Damsel stepped out of the Hollowbrook, Tyler was mildly surprised to see Tabetha waiting for them. Damsel groaned in dismay; on top of Fenris making every effort at her disposal to clear her name, Tabetha Toussaint of clan Tremere was the one who really came through and proved to be a straight shooter. Damsel hated owing anybody anything; even if it was just a word of thanks.

"What do you want, Cammie?" she asked. "You come all the way to these slums just to rub it in that your little magic bone cleared my name and saved my rep? I guess I should be grateful, huh? Well, fine...thanks, okay? There, I said it. Just don't let it get to your head."

Tabetha raised her fingers up into a peace sign. "Actually I'm here for a different reason. Well, it's related, but different. Max would probably rather I not tell you this, but I know for a fact that Cameron is lying about his dealing with the Assamite situation. I don't know what the truth is, but it's not what he says it is. Keep an eye on him."

"See?" Tyler said with a little more enthusiasm than he meant to. "I knew that son of a bitch was up to something."

Damsel held up a hand to shut him up. "How do you know this?"

"The same way I knew you were telling the truth."

"Your magic bone told you. It figures." Damsel retorted. "Why should we believe you?"

"Why would I warn you about an ally of mine unless it was true?" Tabetha replied. To Tyler, she was sounding more and more like Strauss every night. "In any case, that is all I wanted to say. Do with the information what you will. If you will excuse me, Max and I have an appointment."

As the Tremere left on her way back to the Chantry, Damsel and Tyler looked at each other. Damsel cracked a smile; albeit a wary one.

"Sounds to me like there might be a little bit of discord in the Camarilla ranks." Tyler commented.

"Maybe," Damsel agreed. "Still, we gotta be real careful. The Tremere are never that nice unless it benefits their clan somehow."

Tyler shrugged. "No problem," he said. "We sow more seeds of dissent, keep them off balance, and the team starts to crumble once and for all." Before she could say anything, Tyler added hastily: "I know we gotta be careful how we do it. I'm just saying we ought to put that on the table tonight."

Damsel agreed to that much. It was one possible foothold on dealing with the Cameron situation if the Cammies were wary of him, too.

Fenris and Skelter arrived at the front entrance of the Last Round at precisely the same time as Tyler and Damsel. After a brief and silent dispute about who should enter first, Skelter held the door open and allowed Damsel to pass, followed by Fenris, and then Tyler, letting himself in last. Fenris held back just inside so they could arrive together. The four of them slipped through the doorway into the 'steam engine' room towards the back, where Kindred could talk openly and away from kine's ears. Nines and Jack were waiting for them. Tyler wondered if Jack ever really slept.

"Hey, what've we got here, a double date?" Jack catcalled, laughing good naturedly.

The four of them sat, ignoring the Old Pirate's ribbing.

"So what've you got for us, kid?" Nines asked Tyler.

"There's no doubt that Cameron's up to something," Tyler replied. "Even the other Cammies seem to be worried about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Skelter asked.

"On our way here, Strauss's girl told Damsel and I that Cameron's lying about the Assamite situation. She says she doesn't know what the true story is, but he's full of it when he's saying he took care of it. I'm thinking it might mean there's a little bit of division in the ranks."

Jack chuckled. "That's perfect," he said; "So much for Camarilla safety and solidarity."

"That's if we believe she's being straight with us," Fenris cautioned. "She is a Tremere, after all."

"That's what I said," Damsel chimed in. "Yeah, she proved to shoot straight last night, but the Tremere wouldn't give up something like that unless they figured there was a way to work it to their advantage."

"That's probably true," Tyler agreed. "But it still shows a possible rift among the Camarilla, and that can be exploited."

"As little as I like playing it this way, he's right." Nines said. "If there's a crack in the Ivory Tower, we ought to take advantage of it; maybe run those bastards out of L.A. for good."

"The question is how do we do that?" Skelter asked.

"Well shiver my timbers and swash my buckles!" They all heard Janette call from the steam engine entrance. They turned their heads, almost in unison, to see her leaning up against door frame; decked out in her trademark schoolgirl outfit, pigtails and mascara gone horribly wrong. She licked her lips and swaggered into the room. "Look who it is back in town! Is it really Jack, or am I seeing a mirage?"

Fenris

Janette's arrival changed the climate of the room drastically. The main area of the Last Round always reeked of stale beer, sweat, and various other bodily fluids. The Stream Engine room, however, was actually quite clean. As soon as Janette announced her appearance, Fenris remembered how she was nearly fooled by the Assamite the night before. That little man almost got the drop on her by disguising herself as the Malkavian gothic schoolgirl. If not for her sense of smell, Fenris would have been ash by now. She couldn't afford to make that mistake again. While Janette swaggered into the room, mimicking the drunks in the main area, Fenris made a point of checking the scent of everyone in the room.

Skelter was easy to confirm. His old leather scent was unmistakable to her. Tyler had an odour that was faint, but equally unmistakable; like wet pavement after a summer rain. Nines smelled like freshly cut grass, and Jack like the sea; so far everything was right. Damsel was Damsel; based on that vinegar scent she carried with her, and finally Janette proved to be the real deal; she always smelled of peppermint. Fenris noted that Therese smelled exactly the same, and concluded it must be because they are twins. There was a new element to the room upon Janette's appearance; one of uneasiness, an odd mix of excitement and fear. Fenris wasn't sure if she was imposing her own feelings to her senses or if that air of imbalance was genuine. With Janette, you never could tell.

Without warning, Janette spun around and leaned forward; revealing more of her cleavage than Fenris needed to see. "Do you smell something bad, muffin?" she cooed, apparently oblivious to the fact that Jack couldn't resist angling himself to get a better view of backside as she leaned forward. "Or is that just a Gangrel thing?"

"Just checking," Fenris said plainly as Janette slowly stood up to her full height. "Everything is just as it should be."

Janette giggled, as if she knew something the rest of them didn't. "Well, that's a relief," she said, taking a chair and turning it backwards before plopping herself down. "Sorry I'm late, kids, but Kitten insisted on reviewing safety protocols before letting me go out in the big bad world all by my lonesome." She sighed. "I do love him, but sometimes he can be such a spoil sport. So what did I miss?"

Nines caught her up. On top of that, he addressed Skelter's inquiry by suggesting that either Fenris or Ajax shadow Cameron.

"Where is Ajax, anyway?" Fenris observed. "Last I saw him he was checking out Cameron's last night."

"I'm sure he's fine," Janette said with a wave of her hand. "As for Lord Hastings being a liar, Tabby Cat told Therese and Kitten that after the Gathering yesterday. Kitten is at the Magic house now to see if it's some kind of trick."

Nines nodded. "So Marko's got the Tremere, and as far as anyone knows Ajax has Cameron under observation." He said in review. He added, "VV contacted me earlier and told me X was on his way to San Fran to check out the Toreador leak there. What does that leave?"

"The other Assamite," Fenris pointed out. "If Cameron lied about that, we have to consider the possibility that he's still around. Since I know what to look for, I'll try to sniff him out."

"The Setites," Tyler added. "It's a good bet that that the Hastings legacy and the snakes are in bed together, and that means the snakes probably have a nest in or near the city. I can look into that."

Marko

Before entering the Tremere Chantry, Marko watched as Janette skipped happily along the sidewalk in the general direction of the Last Round. He was actually a little surprised she wasn't trying to skip down the middle of the road.

_...crazy, not stupid..._

His real concern as far as she was concerned, though, was whether he should be worried about her or the people she was going to be sitting down with. Most of the time she was fairly harmless; Therese was the genuinely dangerous one, but if provoked enough, Janette could leave some serious scars that might never heal. Not all of those scars were physical; which for their kind was much worse.

Deciding that he really had no choice but to hope everything would turn out fine at the Last Round, Marko opened the door to the Chantry and stepped into the front hall. He already knew to ignore the stairs; the doors up there were always locked and all but impossible to pick.

_Tabby-cat lives there._

He seriously doubted that even the Nosferatu could infiltrate the upper floors of the Chantry. Not unless the Warlocks wanted them to for reasons only they would ever know. Of all the Kindred he met in his admittedly short time as a Kindred, the Tremere made him most uneasy. Bertram was right to say they were creepy. Steeling himself, he stepped on forward into the magic hallway that worked as a maze one could get lost in forever, perpetually finding yourself right back at the beginning unless you knew the right way to go. Fortunately, he had been through this before; once. He remembered the way, and got to the sitting room where Strauss stood near a fireplace and Tabetha sat on a sofa, reading something.

"Please, do come in neonate," Strauss greeted with his signature polite detachment. Tabetha looked up from her book, and shut it without a marker as she set it aside. She stood up as Marko carefully entered the room. "I can assure you," Strauss said, "you are not in any danger here tonight. You, neonate, are our welcome guest."

"Have a seat, Marko," Tabetha said. Marko noted she was taking on a lot of her Mentor's mannerisms; especially in her speech patterns. "We have a lot to talk about."

_Welcome to the Ivory tower..._

Cautiously, Mark took a seat; a high backed chair with cushions and wings. Strauss turned to face him with what was almost a smile on his lips. Tabetha sat back down. On the table between them were a glass bottle and a pair of wine glasses. She leaned forward and poured herself a drink from the bottle which was filled with blood. She took a sip, and gestured to the bottle, raising an eyebrow as if to offer him a glass.

Even without a warning from the Network, Marko knew better than to accept a drink from the Warlocks. The fact that Tabetha drank form it was no reassurance at all; it was fairly common knowledge that the Tremere clan practiced the blood bond. They did this especially among their own. Marko was crazy, but not stupid. If bonded to the Tremere, he would be more apt to ascribe to their ideals.

"No thank you," he declined the offer politely. "I'm already well fed."

"Very well," Strauss said as Tabetha shrugged and took another sip. "Let us begin. First, we review what we know. As you no doubt recall, Tabetha was able to discern with certainty not only that Damsel was innocent of all charges against her, but that Cameron was lying about his handling of the entire Assamite situation. Last anyone has heard Ajax was investigating his culpability in the matter."

Marko noted that Tabetha was beaming. _Teacher used the students name..._

"It has long been a suspicion of mine that the Hastings family of Clan Ventrue has been compromised. Your insight, neonate, regarding the Toreador of Ezekiel's City adds a degree of confirmation to those suspicions. For that I thank you; you have done well. Now we are in a position where we have grounds to investigate more closely, and take action to seal any breach that may exist within the Camarilla. For that, we are indebted to you. Such is our way; we look to resolve matters rather than assign blame."

_Here we go..._

"Master Strauss," Tabby-Cat interjected. "I don't mean to be contrary, but perhaps now it's best if we focus on dealing with the matter rather than singing praise of the Camarilla system over the Barony system."

Strauss turned his gaze to his pupil and regarded her silently. "Yes, of course, my apprentice. You are correct."

_The older is capitulating to the younger? _Marko had never heard the Network ask something before; he wasn't sure what it meant.

"Here's what I'm thinking," Marko ventured. "If Cammie...I mean Cameron is a Hastings Ventrue, and the Hastings Ventrue are in bed with snakes, then we have to consider the possibility the snakes are in his bed."

"Yes, neonate," Strauss agreed. "It is likely the Followers of Set have set up operations in our city. The question is where?"

"Once we find them," Tabby-Cat added. "I'm working on a way to rid ourselves of them before they can wake up their Progenitor."

_How long?_

"How much time do we have?"

"Based on our Clan's studies of their religion," Strauss offered. "The ritual has to be performed at a specific time in a specific point in the lunar and solar cycles under very specific conditions. With that in mind, it could be within a week, or they may have to hold off for another five centuries."

"So even if we can't destroy them, we can buy ourselves some time." Marko suggested. "While we're at it, we can make sure their next opportunity will get missed, too. Since the coffin is held up in Vancouver, we should tell them all of this."

Tabetha and Strauss fell silent. They looked at each other in a manner that told Marko he must have missed something. Tabetha solemnly told him that there was a news item saying the ship that was being held was seized by police. It was described as a huge heroin bust, but there was no mention of anything else on the ship. Strauss added that his Clan connections verified this bust, and that nothing other than the narcotics was aboard.

"So where's the mummy?" Marko asked.

"We don't know." They said in unison.

_Lord Hastings knows._

"We have to find Cameron." Mark Oxford said, and began to stand back up.

Ajax

"There you go, mate." Ajax heard Barabbas say to him as the fresh, clean vitae poured down his throat like some divine nectar; both soothing and burning him as it restored his strength after the makeshift stake was removed. "A bit of the red, red kroovy to build you up; drink up, mate, we have to get moving quickly."

Groaning and still groggy, Ajax struggled to his feet. Barabbas steadied Ajax before the two of them began to move.

"This way," Barabbas led him towards a dark corner of the cell. In the corner, there was a candle holder mounted in the wall. Barabbas pulled it down, opening a hole in the wall beside them. "I found a whole mess of these while tracking you last night; that was why it took so long to actually find you. My guess is the snakes were in a rush to convert this place and missed these passages."

Ajax followed Barabbas into a narrow passage, bearing in mind this might not be the real Barabbas at all; but some kind of Setite trick. After all, what better way would there be to infiltrate a Nosferatu Warren than to rescue a Nos, then trick him into leading you home where you can get access to all the information you could ever want? The vitae he was given was strictly Kine; but that didn't mean much. All that meant was they aren't trying to bind him yet.

"Wait," Ajax objected as they proceeded through the twisting, winding corridors. "What exactly is this place?"

Without stopping, Barabbas answered. "You remember all that fuss with the box ten years back. Old Gary sold it off to the Giovanni, right? Well, after Lacroix and his errand boy got it back, we Nosferatu cleared them all out. You remember that, right?"

_Spaghetti and corpses, boss, that's the Giovanni. _Gary had said.

"I remember." Ajax confirmed. It seemed to him this Barabbas knew stuff that nobody but the Las Angeles Nosferatu should know. That was a good sign. Still, Ajax felt the need to be cautious.

"It seems the snakes have moved in to the old mansion now the Mob has moved out." Barabbas said. "Get rid of one bad tenant, and an even worse one moves in, right?"

Ajax put a hand on his apparent rescuer's shoulder to stop him at a T section of the corridor they were in. He pointed in each direction, and they could see a sentry posted a ways down each. After a series of quick hand signals, they both obfuscated from sight; each one going down opposite bars of the T. As he got closer to his target, Ajax could hear the heartbeat of what he guessed was a ghoul. This one was a living creature; and of good stock too. He was probably an athlete of some sort; track and field, maybe. Not terribly sharp, but he was very healthy. Ajax was so hungry...

The ghoul never had a chance. Ajax was practically on top of him already when he came out of obfuscation and clamped his jaws around the ghoul's neck; biting down draining his veins. The poor sucker tried to struggle free, but it was no contest. By the time the ghoul even realized what was happening, he was almost half way dead. Quickly the vain attempt to break free dropped off, and the ghoul went completely limp in Ajax's grip. Now an empty husk, Ajax dropped the ghoul on the spot he once stood.

"Not too wise, mate," Barabbas shook his head with mild disdain. "There's no telling what was in that bloke's blood. Just don't be too surprised if you catch a buzz that never quite fades is all I can say now."

"I had to do something." Ajax countered. Of course he new Barabbas was right; what he did was dangerous. He didn't feel at all bad about it, though. In fact, he felt great; almost like he was high.

"It's done now." Barabbas waved it off. "Let's go." Barabbas led Ajax through the labyrinth they were in to a large chamber that had what looked like an altar of some kind. They skirted past the chamber to a grate. "Through there," Barabbas directed.

If this was supposed to be some kind of trap, now would be an ideal time to spring it. "After you," Ajax insisted.

"If you say so," Barabbas said, ducking through the grate.

The grate led to an exit. Soon the both of them were outside, near an out building that looked like a garage. In the distance, Ajax spotted two figures approaching. Both he and Barabbas Obfuscated again and ducked into the darkness as the figures drew closer.

"I'm so glad you decided to help us help you." One of the two men said.

The other man scoffed. "It's not like I have all that many options, is it?" He said.

The voice was all but unmistakable. If only they were just a little more visible...

"Of course you have a choice, my friend!" The first man laughed. "You could refuse our help and ruin your legacy forever if you wish."

"That's some option," the second man quipped. By then the pair were clearly visible.

There was no mistaking it; the voice, the attitude, and that face all revealed his identity. Ajax was looking squarely at Cameron Hastings.

_You son of a bitch! _

A large Cadillac pulled up. The first man opened the rear passenger door and let Cameron in. Next, he stepped forward and got in the front passenger seat. Once the car pulled away, Ajax and Barabbas came out of obfuscate. Barabbas was quite perceptive; Ajax figured he could easily notice that he was fuming.

"Was that who I think it was, mate?" Barabbas asked.

"Yeah," Ajax confirmed. "That was Cammie."

"So what do we do now?"

Ajax was momentarily stunned; it was rare for anyone older than him to defer to his ideas. He had to give it some thought. Actually, this could work out well for him. One sure way to be absolutely certain this was really Barabbas was to send him back to Bertram, while he tried to head off Cameron to confront him.

"You go back to the Warrens to update Bertram. I'll head up to Cammie's apartment to deal with Lord Hastings."

Xavier

It wasn't exactly late by the time Xavier Vega reached the San Francisco city limits from Los Angeles, but it wasn't exactly what anyone could call early, either. The truth of the matter was that he got lucky as far as avoiding any police action, the way he was driving. Along the way, he got the impression that either VV or somebody else used some of their influence to make sure of that. With that in mind, he would have to remember that he was in another city now; a Camarilla city. He might have some stroke with the Toreador here, but at the end of the night that might not mean a whole lot to Ezekiel Hastings.

Even before he got into the actual metro area of the city, it was pretty clear he had been made and was being tailed. Given the speed he was currently travelling at, he thought about trying to evade his shadow. That quickly started to seem like a very bad idea, though; such a move would inevitably turn into a police incident, and not only would that be bad for the Masquerade, but there was no telling what kind of pull Prince Ezekiel had with the cops. If Smiling Jack has a hard time operating here, this guy must really know what he's doing.

Almost as if on cue, the car behind revealed itself to be a cop by flashing its cherry lights. Xavier was actually impressed. So far, everything was going down clean. Anybody that might be paying attention would likely just think this was a case of a cop trying to pull a suspicious vehicle over. He was speeding, after all. Trying to run now would be a mistake; that would lead to a chase, and a chase would get him nowhere, especially since he was in a city where he had no real standing. Xavier only really saw one way out; to play along. He pulled his Corvette over and the cop approach.

"Good evening, sir," the cop said. "Do you mind telling me what brings you to San Francisco?"

"Just visiting an old friend," Xavier replied casually. It struck him a little odd the cop didn't ask for identification. Using his Auspex quickly, he was able to determine this cop was a ghoul. On one hand, that was good; he could speak a little more freely now. On the other, he didn't know who this ghoul served.

"I see." The cop answered back dubiously. "Tell me, Mr. Vega, does this friend of yours in Ezekiel's city happen to have a name?"

Xavier was taken slightly aback. Not only was he made before he even got into town, but they knew his name. Jack wasn't kidding when he said Prince Hastings ran a tight ship. He noticed the cops' face softened a little; but wasn't quite sure if he was being sincere.

"Easy, fella," the cop said. "I just gotta make sure all my i's get dotted and t's get crossed, you know?"

"Right," Xavier nodded. It would appear that he wasn't in any danger yet. It looked like the cop was part of the Prince's network, and was really just doing what he was told. Cassandra was Toreador Primogen; and that alone put her on this ghoul cop's good list. On top of that, Cassandra was, according to Jack, involved intimately with Ezekiel. That had to work in Xavier's favor at this point. "I'm here to visit Cassandra DuPont."

This time, the cop was taken aback a little. "That's a pretty serious claim, sir. I hope for your sake it's true." He said. "I trust you also intend to make your presence know to Ezekiel as well?" He more asked than stated.

"Of course," Xavier replied, hoping he didn't sound flippant. "I was actually intending to that first thing. In fact, maybe you can help me by pointing me in the right direction in order to find him."

The ghoul scrutinized Xavier; assessing him. It was possible this cop had some low level of skill in Auspex, but that was unlikely. What seemed more likely was that he was simply a good cop who relied on his instincts to determine what people were really all about. Finally he nodded slowly and stood to his full height.

"I'll escort you." He said. "Just follow me, Mr. Vega, and I'll see to it that his grace will receive your audience."

"Thank you," Xavier said as the cop turned to go back to his own car.

Tabetha

Master Strauss had remained at the Chantry. Tabetha Toussaint actually had a hard time keeping up with the Malkavian, who seemed even more frantic than usual about tracking down Cameron. Rather than checking his apartment, the pair headed straight for the Cameron Arms Hotel. At the front entrance, Tabetha stopped him and suggested they might cover more ground if they split up.

Marko considered this. It was hard to tell if he was thinking for himself or listening to the voices in his head. Actually, Tabetha wasn't sure if there was really any difference. She did read once that there was a rumor that all Malkavians have some kind of psychic link with each other and are constantly chattering at one another; exchanging information and insights. While that would explain why it seemed the Lunatics were able to get ahead of the proverbial curve of events and secrets from time to time, it also seemed that the accessibility and reliability of this so called link was inconsistent and often unreliable. In Strauss' library, the rumor of this link was explored and theorized upon; many scholars dismissed the 'Network' as many called it as either a myth or an elaborate collective delusion. Others believed it was merely a massive group telepathy thing. Still others believed that it was that only the oldest or most powerful of the children of Malkav had access to this 'Network', while others speculated it was completely random which children could gain access. With the Malkavian Clan, any one of these was entirely possible, or it could be all were true to some degree or another, or that none of them were correct. Of all the Clans, Malkav was by far the most difficult to understand.

"That's a good idea, Tabby-Cat." Marko agreed. "You go on in, and I'll find another way to get inside. If Lord Hastings is here, we'll find him. If he isn't, then I'm sure princess Poe is. She'll know where to find him."

Tabetha agreed. Heather was Cameron's ghoul, after all; and chances were good she'd be here. While Cameron went about doing his thing, Heather Poe often ran the daily affairs at the hotel. Marko walked away and vanished around the corner of the building; presumably obfuscated once he was out of plain view. Once he was gone, Tabetha let herself into the main lobby of the hotel. She decided it was best to let the Malkavian be all sneaky, and that her best course of action was to be a little more direct; if subtle. She made her way to the front desk to speak to the attendant there; a young man, neatly groomed and wearing what struck her as a slightly forced smile. She had to give the man credit, though; that smile was well practiced, and most people would have no idea that it was forced at all.

"Yes?" the man at the desk greeted her with a syrupy, cheerful voice. "How may I help you?"

"Hi, there," Tabetha replied with a friendly smile of her own. "My name is Tabetha Toussaint, and I need to speak to Cameron Hastings right away on a business matter. Can you let him know I'm here?"

"I'm sorry." The attendant said. "Mr. Hastings isn't in right now." He looked through a book on the desk. "I don't see your name anywhere on the appointment schedule. You'll just have to come back later once you've booked an appointment."

"Is Heather Poe in?" Tabetha asked. "The matter I need to discuss can be dealt with through her as well."

"Yes, Miss Poe is in tonight," the attendant confirmed. "But she's with another client right now, and once again you will have to book an appointment to see her. I can do that for you if you like."

Using her Dominate discipline, Tabetha replied, "I need to see her right away. It's very important."

"In that case," the attendant responded, "I'll just see if she's finished with her current appointment right now." He picked up a phone and punched an in-house line. He announced to Miss Poe that a Miss Tabetha Toussaint needed to see her right away, and that it was very important. He apologized profusely for the unscheduled meeting, but it really is that important. He thanked Miss Poe, saying he would let her know, and hung up.

"Miss Poe will be down to see you in a moment." He announced, pointing to a nearby sofa. "If you would like to, please feel free to sit while you wait."

"Thank you," Tabetha said, maintaining her friendly yet professional smile and tone as she sat on the sofa that the attendant indicated. From her vantage point she could see could see the entire lobby, and the elevators. In the lobby there was a couple struggling with their luggage, a young woman smoking a cigarette and tapping her foot impatiently; probably waiting for a lover or something. A short time later, she heard the elevator chime, and the door slid quietly open as Heather Poe stepped out; wearing a form fitting but conservative black dress. Tabetha noted it was very similar to the one she was wearing.

"Good evening, Miss Toussaint," she greeted. Though the formality of the greeting struck Tabetha as a little odd, it was easy enough to dismiss as a professional necessity. Not only that, it did serve well enough to maintaining the Masquerade. "What can I do for you tonight?"

Tabetha stood up and straightened her seams before taking Heather's hand to shake it. "Hi there," she greeted back, taking care to maintain the professional exchange that was already established. "I'm an associate of Mr. Hastings. I wonder if we could speak somewhere a little more private, please."

"Of course," Heather said obligingly. "We can go to my office, if you like." Before Tabetha could say anything, Heather turned around gracefully and started back towards the elevators. "Follow me, please."

Tabetha followed her into the elevator. Heather pushed a button and the elevator began to rise. Looking at her in close quarters, Tabetha couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss with her. While it could be the result of Cameron's training or some kind of Ventrue conditioning, Tabetha didn't think so. Playing on a hunch, Tabetha activated a mid-level degree of her Auspex to look at Heather with a little more scrutiny. She wanted to use a Thaughmetergy trick to take a sample of her vitae, but the trick would cause a cold tingle that Heather would feel, giving her away. This Auspex check would have to do.

It was enough. It took very little effort to determine that this was not Heather Poe at all. The hair was right, and the dress was genuine. The glasses were an affectation, and the features were completely different; it was like this person was wearing some kind of mask. Heather was Caucasian, this new woman was something else; Persian, maybe. That wasn't all there was. Heather was a ghoul. This imposter was Kindred.

Without saying a word, Tabetha switched to a different use of her Auspex; a higher level. She attempted to send Marko a telepathic message:

_Heather Poe is probably dead. I have eyes on the likely assailant. Come to Heather's office. _

The elevator rang. The door opened. The Heather imposter led her out onto the floor and towards her office. As Tabetha followed, she could only hope that her message got through. Even more desperately, she could only hope that Marko wouldn't dismiss the message as just one of his imaginary voices.

At the office door, the imposter opened the door and let her in first, closing the door behind her as she followed. The lock on the door clicked. "What is it that I can help you with, Miss Toussaint?" she asked, still sounding very convincingly like Heather.

Tabetha turned to face the imposter, and was met with a pair of serpentine eyes. Paralyzed, all Tabetha could do was watch as the imposter dropped her mask and approached her without blinking.

Cameron

With Alejandro gone, Cameron Hastings called his limo from the parking garage of the Skyline Apartments downtown to the train yard in Santa Monica. He was technically breaking the rules of the agreement made with that Malkavian freak Therese, but so long as he wasn't seen doing it, there should be no trouble.

Now that the Setite was out of the way, and the mummy was secure, Cameron had to move quickly to make a contingency plan; one which get him clear with the local Camarilla and gain him all he could from his new allies. The tricky part was Alejandro's bluff; if it was a bluff. Cameron had a hunch it was not a bluff at all. If his hunch was right, then the Serpents had his heart; literally.

The limo arrived. He got in, and instructed the driver to take him home; making sure he took a route that would keep them out of sight. On the way, he took a moment to consider the scenario. First, he had the backing of his family, and therefore was in a very good –if delicate- position to not only take Chinatown, but the entire city of Los Angeles for the Camarilla. Unfortunately, that apparently meant that along with family and Ventrue support, he had to deal with the Followers of Set. Second, chances were good the city currently thought he was up to something. They wouldn't be wrong to believe that, but they likely had the wrong idea. He'd have to clean that up quickly; starting with Strauss and the few Camarillas that were around. Third, the Setites probably had his heart in jar somewhere. That put him in a very dangerous place. What he had to do was figure out a way to earn the trust of the City and make sure the Serpents believed he was playing everything their way.

"We're here, sir." The driver announced. He got out of the car and opened the door for Cameron.

"Thank you," Cameron said, stepping out of the limo. He headed directly for the elevator and his apartment. He should have the place to himself; and that would give him time to make sure everything was running as it should. Unlocking the door, he stepped into his apartment.

"Welcome home, traitor," a voice in the dark hissed.

Chapter 9

Tyler

Normally, Fat Larry wasn't in market of information; his 'bidness' was all about merchandise. One thing he was good about, though, was keeping his ear to the ground so he could get a heads up on any potential competition. The Setites most typically deal in things that Larry won't touch: Prostitutes, drugs, inside trading, information to be used for extortion, slave trade. That was what Setites run in. There was a chance that Larry might have the lowdown on some shady affairs in town; he would want to know who to steer clear of. This is was why Tyler DeFaulte headed for Fat Larry's Truck of Mack the minute the group at Last Round broke up. He needed a lead as to where the Setites might be operating. He approached the truck to find his man leaning casually against the back of it; arms folded across his ample chest, dark sunglasses covering his eyes, his perfect afro showing only the slightest hint of gray at the temples. Fat Larry stood up straight as he saw Tyler draw near.

"My man!" he greeted. "How they hanging, what's shaking, and all that jazz; you need anything?"

"My brother from another mother," Tyler greeted back. "Just the man I wanted to see. Listen, man; I need the latest lowdown on where I might find me Madame H, if you know what I mean." Talking like this felt ridiculous, but he found over the years it helped to mirror people's lingo to get results quickly.

Larry blanched. "Now what would you want with that bitch?" he asked. "You know as well as I do that I'm no angel, but getting into that shit is bad news."

"Nah, man; it ain't like that," Tyler replied with a casual laugh. "I'm looking for her so I can take her out of play. The last thing Venus and I need is that crap running around in our establishment and bringing in any unwanted heat."

"Yeah, I hear you," Larry grinned. Venus never talked about it, but Tyler figured that Larry and Venus had a 'sinner-Confessor' thing going on. Fat Larry took a conspiratorial glance around. "Alright; I know some shady types have been around lately, chatting folks up and such. Now I ain't seen no dealing on the streets, but I do know that these shady folks have been giving out handbills that take people to that abandoned place where that crazy circle cult used to hang out."

That came as no surprise to Tyler. It just figured that religious fanatics would hole up where a bunch of religious fanatics once held up. Tyler remembered taking down the Ninth Circle very well, and he remembered the layout of Bishop Vick's shack of a headquarters like it was yesterday. In a sense, this was a good thing; it was starting to look like he was catching a break.

"That's great," Tyler said. "Thanks, my man. You just helped me in a big way!"

"Hold up!" Larry blurted just as Tyler was turning away. "If you're gonna go in there all Clint Eastwood style to take 'em out of play, you're gonna need some serious firepower to make it happen. Now that's something I'm more able to help you with." Fat Larry leaned in closer. "You need anything?"

Fenris

The sickly-sweet scent at the Asian theatre, the trail went cold in the sewers where Fenris was intercepted by Ajax. Sewers had a way of playing havoc with her senses; so many conflicting scents mingling together mad it almost impossible to sift through anything. It was almost as bad a bars and pubs. At least in sewers a lot of the mash was stagnant as opposed to constantly shifting. Either way, the trail was pretty much dead here. Coming here was basically a waste of time.

Fenris had to rethink her approach. Trying to find the Assamite would take way too long. A better plan, she started think, was rather than trying to track him down she should try to lure him out. The question to ask was what would lure an assassin out. The answer was pretty simple, really. He had targets. The next question was which one was most likely to be next. To answer that, Fenris had to think like an assassin.

She considered the targets. First there was Isaac and Gary. They were done first; that made sense. Isaac was probably the most suited to lead among the Barons. Gary would be the hardest to locate and destroy. Next there was Therese. While she was smart and competent, she was also insane. That made her unpredictable; for all Fenris knew, Therese might be able to be turned to the Hastings agenda. She might even be in on it now; it was unlikely, but it was possible. That pretty much left Nines. Nines Rodriguez was the least interested in taking on a leadership role; even if he had a natural talent for the job. He was, however, the most combat oriented of the targets; and one of the best fighters in the city. If she were an assassin, Nines would be next. Not only would it lessen the ability of the others to resist, it would crush the morale of most of the Kindred in the city.

Her mind was made up. Nines Rodriguez was most likely still at the Last Round. That was probably a good thing; it was a good chance that he was with Skelter and Damsel. That meant any assassin would have to try a ranged attack, and even then he would have a hell of time getting away. Pulling out her cell phone, Fenris dialled Damsel. Rodriguez had a phone, but he rarely had it on him. Skelter was something of a Luddite when it came to things like cell phones and computers, and Nines bought into some of Skelter's rhetoric. After a few quick words to Damsel, Fenris started back from Hollywood into the Downtown core.

Marko

_Heather Poe is probably dead. I have eyes on the likely assailant. Come to Heather's office. _

Dubious of what he thought just happened; Marko tapped his left temple with the first two fingers of his left hand. What he thought he heard was Tabby-Cat not only on the Network, but her voice was somehow in front of the Network; like she was right there with him, but also in the Network at the same time.

How was that possible? Did the Tremere have a way to hack into the Network? Was it really Tabby-Cat, or a badly timed prank? Was Tabby-Cat really a Tremere? Or was this more of their Magic?

Mark Oxford gave his head a shake, deciding it didn't much matter how Tabby-Cat got into his head. It was possible, he supposed, it might be some super-high level of Auspex he hasn't yet mastered. Whatever the answer to this riddle might be, the message was clear. Tabby-Cat was closing in on their probable target, and needed help to put it down. Whether it was a legit message or someone on the Network playing a badly timed -and therefore perfectly timed- prank, he had to go check it out.

He was already in the building; cruising one of the common rooms. From there he easily found his way to the elevators. The one he hopped into happened to have someone in it; a pretty brunette rocking a classy Goth-girl look.

"Pardon me," Marko said to her. "By any chance would happen to know where I would find the office of Miss Poe? It's very important I talk to her."

Goth-girl looked him over with a well practiced bored look. "Let me guess, you're with the exterminators, right?" She asked.

From behind his tinted glasses, Marko regarded her in bewilderment for a moment before realizing he was wearing his coveralls and gum boots tonight. He decided it was best to play along.

"Yes, that's right. I'm the pest buster." He agreed. "Our assessment is complete, and we have an estimate for treatment."

"How bad is it?" Goth-girl inquired with a tone that seemed a little less than interested. "The roach problem, I mean?"

Marko smiled, hoping his smile came off as reassuring. "Nothing we can't handle ma'am. Roach busting is what we do best." He gave her a salute.

She gave him directions to Heather's office. Marko thanked her, stepped off the elevator, and headed for the office. He could have dominated her into telling him, but in the past he found that sometimes created other problems that could screw with the Masquerade indirectly. He found usually it was better to play along with the presumptions of the social norm; keeping the really real and totally irrational reality all to himself.

_SNAKE EYES! Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

Just as he was about to knock on the door, the Network screamed at him so hard it actually caused him to wince. Instinctively, he reached into pocket to grip the Magnum he brought with him, but then thought better of it. The Magnum was really loud, and the report would definitely attract unwanted attention. Besides, he had a better idea. He focused his Auspex to peek into the room. There he saw a shape of a man standing over a shape of a woman.

_Tabby-Cat is down._

Steeling himself, he got ready to whammy whoever it was on the other side of the door with a dose of panic-driven madness. He took half a step back and mule kicked the door as hard as he could; just like in the cop shows he and Janette sometimes watched and laughed at like they were comedies.

It worked. The door flew open, and in the split second of surprise he had on the man standing above Tabby-Cat, he tossed his Dementation whammy out. The man, who looked to Marko like he might be Puerto-Rican, shrieked sharply in terror at whatever his momentarily deluded mind saw and suddenly darted towards a nearby ventilation duct, rapidly turning into a large snake as he did. Not the reaction Marko was hoping for, the snake started to slither into the duct.

Cursing quietly, Marko sprang forward, attempting to grab the snake by the tail. He only barely missed. He cursed again as the snake slid deeper into the ventilation system of the hotel. Marko looked first down the duct, then at the unconscious form of Tabetha. He was hoping to paralyze the snake-man in order to beat him senseless, but now he had a terrified cobra in building, or maybe in city streets. He also had a Tabby-Cat that he considered something of a friend who was in bad shape.

If Tabby-Cat could talk to people with her brain, maybe he could to. Marko took a deep breath, focused himself and massaged his temples.

"Marko calling Strauss, this is Marko calling Strauss..." he said aloud. "If you can hear me, Tabby-Cat is down. She looks bad. A Snake got her at Cammies' Hotel, Poe-girls' office. The Snake got away. I'm in pursuit. You might want to come and help Tabby-Cat. This is Marko signing out."

Hoping that worked, Marko raced to the fire escape stairs, figuring he would get to the basement quicker that way than in the elevator, also guessing that the Snake would want someplace dark to hide.

Ajax

Ajax relished the look on Cammie's face when he stepped out of obfuscation and spoke; Cameron Hastings looked like he just added about five pounds into his jockey shorts. If he wasn't so pissed off, the Nosferatu would have laughed.

"Who are you to call me a traitor?" Cameron challenged, trying to put on his typical bravado.

"I'm the guy who knows you hooked up the Assamites to take down the Barons," Ajax replied. "I'm the guy who knows you set Skelter up to take a hit, and I'm the guy who saw you conspiring with the Setites in order to build up your little family dynasty."

Regaining composure, Cameron scoffed. "Then you don't know half of what you think." He retorted. Cameron opened his jacket and tapped his chest lightly over his heart. "I, like most of my family, am being coerced into cooperating with those serpents. For all I know, they are the ones who arranged the Assamite connection. For my part, I'm only playing along until I can find a way to turn the tables on them."

Ajax sized the Ventrue up. He didn't have Auspex, or any special lie detector abilities, but he figured that Cameron's explanation was plausible enough to have some element of truth to it; taking into account Ventrue pride and the unlikely chance that any Ventrue would be willing to play second fiddle to anybody. Also, considering that Cammie was a sneaky son of a bitch, this was exactly the kind of play he might try.

"Okay, Cammie, let's just say I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt." He said. "What to the sand snakes have on you, and what do you intend to do about it?"

"Don't listen to him!" Cameron Hastings shouted from the entrance into the room. Both Ajax and Cameron turned to see another Cameron storming in and standing beside the first Cameron. "You need to destroy this imposter! I just escaped from the Setite stronghold; that is the other Assamite in disguise!"

"That's ridiculous!" The first Cameron countered. "I am Cameron Hastings, Clan Ventrue; this one is the imposter!"

Looking first to one, and then the other, Ajax could see only one way to be sure. Activating his Potence, he reached out and knocked both their heads together; hard enough to crush the skulls of any mortal kine.

Xavier

The ghoul cop led Xavier to the Ivory Tower hotel, about three blocks uphill from the Bay. Even from where they stood, the view was remarkable; he could only imagine what it was like from court area that surrounded the penthouse suites at the top of the tower. It must be breathtaking...

Xavier Vega blinked hard to regain his focus before his clan weakness started to take too much of a hold on him. He followed the cop into an underground parking garage, where he was next taken to a service elevator. The cop hit a button, and the elevator began its ascent to the Penthouse.

"Why are we taking a back door route?" Xavier asked. "What's wrong with coming in the front way?"

"Right now you don't want to ask questions, sir," the cop replied without looking at him. "I have my orders, and those include not divulging any information on the situation. Prince Ezekiel will deal with you directly."

Xavier didn't like the sound of that. It told him that he was being set up for something bad. For a moment he regretted that he did not arm himself; but then realized chances were good that he'd not only be disarmed before being allowed to see the Prince, but even attempting to bring in weapons would only make things worse for him. His only play right now was to go along, and see if he could talk his way out of whatever was going on. At the moment, that meant keeping his big mouth shut until he had an audience with the Prince. Chances were that this cop didn't know anything, anyway. If this is the way a Hastings runs the show, Xavier decided he would do whatever he could to keep that from happening in Los Angeles.

The elevator stopped. The door slid open without as much as a whisper of a sound. The door led into a back hallway, an oak door at the opposite end.

"Come with me, sir." The cop said without any inflection. He led Xavier towards and through the door, which led into a surprisingly lavish center court; guards posted all along a gangway which ran around a second floor of each of the three suites on the penthouse floor. He was facing west, the eastern wing of the penthouse apparently serving as some kind of staff area; or perhaps a conference hall. Precisely in the middle of the court in front of him, a rail-thin, almost skeletal man with empty sockets where his eyes should be stood. He had not a single hair anywhere on his body, no lips to speak of to cover his pearl white teeth which reminded Xavier of a shark, and it looked as if his ears had been cut off. This man could only be a Nosferatu, Xavier reasoned.

"Thank you officer," the Nosferatu said with a whistling, effeminate voice as he waved his right hand in a shooing gesture; his fingers thin and long like the legs of a spider, manicured fingernails that looked like claws. "That will be all."

"Yes, madam Sheriff." The cop bowed sharply before taking a step backward and turning around to leave the way he came. The oak door slammed shut behind the cop, and a man with a barrel of a chest stood in front of it. Xavier guessed this man to be a Brujah. This one was definitely a man, unlike the Nosferatu Sheriff, apparently.

"Xavier... Vega, is it?" The Sheriff asked him.

"Yes, madam Sheriff," Xavier replied, reasoning that when in Rome one should act as the Romans do.

"I understand you're here to speak with the Primogen of your clan in our city. Is this correct?"

"Yes, madam Sheriff."

"I see." The Sheriff said. "Then would I also be correct to presume that you have been sent by your Primogen? Isaac Abrams, I believe it is?"

By reflex, Xavier balked. "No, Madam Sheriff," he replied. "I regret to say that Isaac Abrams has been destroyed. It is now Velvet Velour that leads the Toreador in Los Angeles." Since Los Angeles was an Anarch Free State, the term Primogen actually meant very little, but Xavier thought now was not the time press that particular issue; better to let the Cammies use their own vernacular.

"My condolences," the Sheriff said, void of any emotion. "Then it is Miss Velour you are here on behalf?"

"No, madam Sheriff I am not." Xavier answered. "I do have her approval for this visit, but I am here on a more personal matter. I mean no disrespect, madam Sheriff, but the exact nature of this visit is sensitive, and before I speak of it further I would like to present myself to Prince Ezekiel."

The Sheriff was silent for what seemed like an eternity. By Xavier's estimation, she was scrutinizing him. He also got the sense that at least on some level, she was enjoying being in such a clear position of authority over him; a Nosferatu that quite literally held the life of a Toreador in her hands. Finally, she made a hissing noise that Xavier believed must have been what passed for laughter with her.

"Well said, Mr. Vega," she said finally; "for an Anarch. Very well, I shall speak to the Prince and his Seneschal. Wait here, if you please." The Sheriff deftly turned and slinked in a way that would have been seductive if it weren't so grotesque. She went through what Xavier presumed was the door to the western suite and quietly closed the door behind her. Even though the wait was really only a matter of seconds, it felt as if Xavier was alone in the concourse for at least half an eternity. For the briefest of moments, he considered striking up conversation with the barrel-chested man at the door, but the look in his eyes told him that was a bad idea; though Xavier couldn't quite read why it was a bad idea, other than what was readily apparent in the situation.

Xavier was just about to focus his Auspex in an attempt to get a read on the man's thoughts when the western door opened up again behind him.

"His highness will see you now, Mr. Vega." The Sheriff beckoned with a come-hither gesture with her spider-like fingers. "Bruno, please help Mr. Vega into the suite."

"Thank Madam Sheriff," Xavier replied as the man at the eastern door advanced. "But really, I don't need help."

"I'm sure you don't," the Sheriff concurred. "I assure you, this is purely a formality. I'm afraid Prince Ezekiel insists." She again made that spidery come hither gesture; Xavier thought crazily about Imalia. He wondered if this Nosferatu was like her; a former beauty queen that was turned as some kind of punishment. If she was, Xavier figured, this is one Cleopatra that did very well.

Before he could object any farther, Xavier was nudged lightly by Bruno the Bruja; though lightly still felt a little like get a love tap from a semi. It was suddenly becoming very clear to Xavier that he was getting set up for something nasty. Seeing no way out at the moment, Xavier let himself get lead into the suite. It was ridiculous; the suite was bigger and more elaborate than most houses that Xavier had seen. This facility, on the whole, put Cameron's condo and his hotel to shame.

"Your Highness, Mr. Seneschal" the Sheriff announced, "Mr. Xavier Vega of Clan Toreador from Los Angeles; he claims to have a matter to discuss with our own Cassandra DuPont."

The resemblance between Ezekiel Hastings and Cameron was uncanny; Ezekiel had longer hair, though not by much. Apart from that, he could've been Cameron's biological father. He sat in an easy chair in the front room. The chair invoked a sense that Ezekiel was sitting upon a throne; or at the very least granted him a very Presidential image. On a nearby couch, another man lounged, looking altogether much too comfortable. This man lazily straightened himself up. He had long black hair parted in the middle. His eyes were milky white; Xavier took note that this man was very likely stone blind. A woman in a wedding dress, complete with a veil which obscured her face, stood behind the couch. It appeared as if she was wearing some sort of mask beneath the veil. Xavier guessed she served as the blind man's guide.

"And this Mr. Vega," the man replied with a soft-spoken voice. "We can assume he has been checked for weapons and espionage equipment?"

"Of course, Mr. Seneschal," the Sheriff concurred. "I checked him myself, and he has been vetted several times before he even entered our city."

"I have no doubt." The Seneschal said. He stared directly at Xavier; as if he was scrutinizing an unwanted visitor, or perhaps like he was sizing up a young suitor for his daughter. "Mom,' he said, apparently talking to his guide, "Please come around and take a closer look at this Toreador. Leave the veil down, please; we don't need the mask yet." Without a word, the bride-guide-mother woman stepped around the couch and stood next to Xavier; looking him up and down. The Seneschal sighed, sounding bored. "I suppose he's safe enough." He said. "Thank you, Mom. Come back to me now."

The woman returned to original position. Without turning his gaze away from Xavier, the Seneschal nodded almost unnoticeably.

"Tell me, Mr. Vega," The Prince spoke. Even his voice was like a slightly more grown up version of Cameron. "What is the exact nature of your business with Cassie?" He sounded genuinely concerned. It was possible that the trouble Xavier thought he was in was nowhere near as serious as he originally believed. "I should warn you," Ezekiel added, "my Seneschal is very talented, and we will know of any deception on your part."

"I understand, Highness." Xavier replied. "Cassandra and I have been in contact with each other for nearly ten years, and our most recent exchange has given me cause to believe she may be in trouble."

The Prince glanced at the Seneschal, who made no move. "I see," he said. "Tell me, Mr. Vega; for what purpose have you been in contact with Cassie?"

"I run a club in Hollywood, and she has been recommending up and coming talent to play in my venue."

"True," the Seneschal confirmed.

"Very good," Ezekiel said. "Now tell me, what was it in your last exchange that gave you cause to worry?"

"When we do contact each other we do so in code, Highness." Xavier explained. "We use key words and phrases throughout our conversations and respond to those very specifically. The last conversation we had, Cassandra failed to respond properly."

The Seneschal laughed. When the Prince did not respond to the laughter, Xavier presumed it was not necessarily relevant. It could have been that he thought the measure was amusing; also, it was clear to Xavier that the Seneschal was a Malkavian.

Xavier continued. "Because of this failure, it is my belief that whoever I was corresponding with was an imposter."

The Prince stiffened in his chair. "Is that so?" he asked. "When was this last correspondence?"

"Last night, sir," Xavier answered.

Ezekiel raised a hand to stop the Seneschal short. "I already know that to be a lie, Mr. Vega." He retorted. "If your City wasn't a so-called 'Free State' surely your Primogen would know that Cassie has been missing for at least a week. Actually, I believe that you are aware of this, and now the Anarchs of Los Angeles sent you to cover their tracks in an effort to undermine my Court. I believe you're in league with that grinning pirate of a Bruja Jack."

Prince Ezekiel nodded at the Sheriff. Before he could speak or move in protest, the Sheriff and deputy Bruno seized Xavier and held him using Potence.

"I recommend that you do not resist, Mr. Vega," the Seneschal chimed in. "Or I will have to ask Mom to lift her veil." He giggled. "Believe me, Toreador, you don't want that."

Tabetha

Tabetha Toussaint opened her eyes. Her tinted eyeglasses, which were now purely an affectation that sometimes helped in making her Masquerade all the more convincing, were not on her face. Despite that, she could still make out the details of the ceiling above her. For a moment, she didn't recognize it; then she remembered where she was.

"You've recovered." She heard Master Strauss say nearby as she sat up. "I am pleased, Apprentice. Losing you would be a loss to the Clan and to the Camarilla."

Tabetha got to her feet and saw him standing in front of Heather's desk, arms folded across his chest. "Heather..." she started to say.

"Is deceased, I know." Strauss finished for her. "The one you encountered was a Follower of Set. The Malkavian is in pursuit as we speak. Apparently your use of Auspex confused him for a moment, but in the end you taught him how to add to his own skills."

So Marko was alright. Tabetha nodded. "We have to catch up to him," she suggested. "That Setite son of a bitch can't be allowed to escape."

"I agree, my Apprentice," Strauss concurred, void of emotion as usual. With a casual wave of his hand, a sliding closet door across the room slid open; behind it were the remains of Heather Poe. She looked as if someone had poured hydrochloric acid down her throat. "But first we have to remove all evidence of any crime. This mess would otherwise endanger thee Masquerade."

Cameron

Seeing what the Nosferatu was about to do, Cameron Hastings instinctively activated the full extent of his Fortitude to soak the brunt of the impact of his skull colliding into the skull of his apparent twin. Ajax must have been using a great deal of Potence, because even with Fortitude, the blow hurt enough to send him reeling; he nearly lost his footing. The imposter was not so lucky. For his part, the imposter also reeled as his obfuscate melted away to reveal a man with obviously dyed red hair, his features were either Puerto-Rican or Philippine; Cameron could never really tell the difference. Whoever he was, his eyes glazed over as his head wobbled stupidly before he collapsed on the apartment floor. Upon a glance, it was clearly evident that this imposter was out cold. Judging from the ache in his own head, Cameron guessed it would be quite some time before the pretender to his throne would recover.

Rubbing his head with his left hand, Cameron looked over at Ajax. "Was that really necessary?"

Ajax grinned; or whatever passed for grinning. "I'm afraid so," he said. "I had to know for sure. I figured you'd be the one standing after a shot like that."

"I suppose that's true enough," Cameron allowed, taking the remark as a compliment. "Still; ow, though..." he murmured.

"What about him?" Ajax asked. "What's his story?"

"Who knows?" Cameron shrugged. "My guess is he's the second Assamite that the Gangrel was talking about."

Both he and Ajax nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard a loud buzzer noise at the entrance of the room. They turned to see Marko standing before them, dressed in what looked like exterminator coveralls, his arms crossed into a giant 'X' in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Lord Hastings, but that answer is not correct." The Malkavian said in his best game-show host voice. "You do not win the million dollar prize or the all expense paid vacation to Tahiti. That is no Assamite. That is, in fact, a Serpent."

"How do you know that?" Ajax asked.

"Tabby-Cat and I visited the hotel. This snake got the drop on Tabby-Cat by pretending to be Poe-girl, but not before she gave me a heads up." Marko tapped his temple with his right pointer-finger.

In a moment of inspiration, Cameron spoke, doing his best to feign concern. "Heather? He impersonated my ghoul? Is she alright?"

Marko slowly lifted the goggles he always wore off his eyes. The Malkavian looked Cameron up and down, as if to scrutinize him. That made the Ventrue uncomfortable. Marko wasn't any older than him, but Cameron knew that Marko had a frightening way of knowing things he had no way of knowing. Marko suddenly tensed up and cocked his head to one side.

"It is with deep regret, sir, that the latest report I just received from Tabby-Cat is that Miss Heather Poe has been killed in the line of duty." He said in a comical Marine voice.

"What?" Cameron demanded, doing his best to sound shocked and wounded. He slowly turned his gaze to the unconscious Setite. Suppressing a grin, he twisted his face into a scowl and drew a pistol from his nightstand. "You son of a bitch!" he shouted, aiming the .45 at the Setites' head. Before he could pull the trigger, Ajax grabbed his wrist and wrested the gun from his hand.

"Think this through, Cammie," the Nosferatu said. "I get it; you want payback for your ghoul. But you aren't stupid; you know we need him alive for information. The right play here is to take him to Bertram, Nines, Therese, VV, and even Max and interrogate him. Once we get some answers, then I for one can care less what you do to him."

Cameron feigned contemplation to buy himself some time to adjust his plan to the new scenario. On the face of it, Ajax was right. The problem was this snake might know too much about his arrangement with Alejandro. Though Cameron was certainly being coerced, he had no interest n making that too well known; at least not yet. It was bad enough the Nosferatu knew as much as he did.

Then again, maybe he could use the Nosferatu to his advantage. To do that, he would have to play along for now. While he was at it, he could work the Malkavian in on this as well. Marko was unstable, but trustworthy enough; besides, better to be as straight as possible with him as long as possible since he had that weird insight thing going. Since Ajax knew as much as he did, it might be possible to appeal to him on the need to maintain cover; impress on him the necessity that his cover needs to go both ways for the time being. As for Marko; Cameron estimated he would respond well to being invited into the circle. Cursing under his breath, he pulled himself free of Ajax's grip.

"You're right," he said to Ajax. "Let's get him to the others. Where are they?"

"Janette met with them over at the Last Round," Marko informed them. "Not Therese, though, she's in the Asylum tonight."

"Alright, then," Cameron sighed. "Ajax, we can't really just carry this serpent out in the street. You should carry him to the Last Round from below while I catch Marko up to what's really going on."

The Nosferatu nodded, apparently satisfied with the implication that he was in the know. "That makes sense." He agreed, picking the Setite up.

"Come on, Marko," Cameron said, slapping the Malkavian lightly on the back. "I must admit, I do indeed have some explaining to do." With that, he led Marko out of his apartment; making a note to do something about improving his security system.


	2. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Tyler

From his suite in the Hollowbrook, Tyler DeFaulte loaded himself up for the assault he was planning on the Downtown Setite base of operations. After leaving Fat Larry, he picked up an Uzi to go with the rounds he got from his man, and as an afterthought he also collected about half a dozen signal flares; the Setites in particular were sensitive to flame and bright light so they might come in handy. Next, he called Nines and Damsel as a group call.

"Yeah?" they answered in unison after the second ring. "What's up?"

"Checking in," Tyler replied. "I think I found a Setite base of operations. The way it looks, I figure it's probably a drug den right here Downtown; most likely heroin."

"Son of a bitch," Damsel shouted. "I'd like to peel the scales off every single one of those mother fucking dope peddling assholes!"

"Good job, Tye," Nines said, keeping his cool. "At least now we know where to start. I take it you're thinking about going down there to take it all down."

"That was the idea." Tyler confirmed.

"Come on back to the Last Round, first." Nines said; it almost sounded like an order, but then his tone often did.

"Fenris just called," Damsel added. "She figures the Assamite she made is gonna hit Nines next. She's on her way here to work out a trap. Bring some hardware. She is gonna be your back up."

Before Tyler could protest, Nines insisted that he was going into a hostile environment and needed someone to watch his back. As little as he liked it, Tyler knew that was the right call. He grabbed a few more flares and a 12-gauge shotgun which he personally sawed down for concealment purposes.

"I'm on my way." Tyler said, hanging up.

Fenris

Much to her surprise, the cab Fenris caught was virtually odorless; as if the driver had recently scrubbed and disinfected it. It was really a relief to her senses.

Just before the cab arrived, Damsel called her back. Apparently, a there was a hot lead on where the Setites were running one of their drug dens; Tyler was gearing up for some kind of assault, and he would need back up for it. Fenris didn't need to guess that she was being picked for the task. She figured that it wasn't so much Tyler that wanted the back up, but he probably had sense enough to see that it was the right play to make.

"What about the Assamite?" she had asked.

"We got that under control." Damsel shot back. "You were right, the best bet is that he'll come out after Nines next, and the best way to take him out is draw him out into the open."

Now in the cab, she took a moment to gather herself. Mentally, she prepared herself; switching her frame of mind from tracking to fighting. Fenris adjusted herself in her seat.

"You seem uncomfortable, child." The driver said; his voice filled with a warm darkness that had an air of authority that Fenris didn't dare challenge. Her apprehension went back to something Skelter once told her in her first few nights. He told her once that the blood would know when the ancients called out to it, and that it would respond accordingly despite what the senses or the will believed.

"It's not your cab, if that's what you're getting at." She replied, not sure what else to say.

"In a concrete jungle such as Los Angeles, those of your Clan often tend get claustrophobic; to feel boxed in." The driver said. For a moment, Fenris was alarmed; not so much because it sounded like he knew of the Kindred, but more because his assessment of her personally both as an individual and as a Gangrel was so accurate. "One can hardly hold you at fault for what you are, young Gangrel." He continued. "As with the kine, when the Kindred are gathered together they tend to weave webs of deceit that make it all but impossible to determine who is worthy to trust. The urge to leave in favor of solitude and open spaces can be very inviting."

Stunned at how precisely He hit the proverbial nail on the head, Fenris instinctively cleared her throat before speaking. "Yeah," she said; hoping she sounded casual. "Out there on my own, then I wouldn't have to worry about getting screwed over at every turn. I would be out of all the politics and bullshit."

"You should be aware that the path of the independent is a difficult and dangerous one, child." He cautioned. "While it is true you have less concern in regards to the political machinations of the cities, you are then on a lonely road and therefore vulnerable."

"I'd be willing to risk that," she said. "I can handle myself. Besides, at least I'd be in the care of someone I can trust."

"Would you be?" He challenged. "A lonely Kindred – especially one of a Clan as naturally close to the Beast as yours - may find themselves taken by the Beast in the Blood very quickly."

He had a good point, Fenris had to admit. She really had no good counter to that. She honestly believed she could handle it, but He was right in His cautionary note.

"Still," He added, "the path you choose is yours alone to choose, child. If you so wish, I can drop you off near the edge of town where you can go where you will."

Fenris gave this offer some serious thought. She could bolt; she could just leave everything behind and start a whole new chapter of her unlife...

No, she decided. She had a habit of running away all her life, and that is what got her into this mess in the first place; she ended up dead pretty much as a result of her habit of running away. Besides, she started something in this city. Now it felt improper to leave that undone. Starting something and not seeing it through seemed like a betrayal in its own right. She may have done a lot of bad things, especially over the last ten years, and she may be a lot of bad things, but nobody would ever be able to say that Fenris Fraust is a hypocrite.

"No," she said finally. "I got something I have to finish here, first."

"Independence and honor is a rare and admirable combination among the Kindred. You may do well on your own after all, child." He said; "Where to?"

"Downtown" Fenris replied.

Marko

_...That's true enough..._

The Network seemed to believe Cameron's claim to be using the Setite attempt to coerce him into cooperation as an opportunity to infiltrate their operations. He didn't even deny that he was ultimately doing this on behalf of the Camarilla. Marko was not stupid, though. He didn't miss the probability that what Cameron meant was he was doing this on behalf of Hastings brand of Camarilla. The Malkavian decided he would be keeping a close watch on the Ventrue even before they arrived at the Last Round.

As they were entering, a voice on the speakers inside was just short of yelling at them about the real and present danger of the rapidly forming New American Century. From the corner of his eye, Marko spotted Tidy Bear storming towards them; sporting a leather trench coat and looking ready to go about kicking some without taking any names. He was a little less than a block away. In the distance, a cab was approaching.

Both Marko and Cameron deftly weaved through the crowd and got into the Steam Pipe. Inside waiting was Nines, Damsel, Janette, and Smiling Jack; Jack was ogling Janette, not that she seemed to mind.

"Kitten, you're safe!" Janette exclaimed as she dashed towards him. She glanced at Cameron. "Well, I see you've decided to join the party, Duckling," she added as an indifferent afterthought.

Before he could start with any banter with Jack, Marko saw both Fenris and Tyler enter the room. It seemed almost the whole gang was here tonight; X was off on a secret mission, Tabby Cat was hurt and cleaning up a mess with Max, Ajax was on his way. That left VV and Helter-Skelter. That VV was absent was hardly a surprise, but...

"Where's Skelter?" Fenris asked.

"Setting things up," Damsel replied.

_...To catch an Ass I might..._

Fenris nodded. Clearly she knew what Dam Sail meant. "Right; I get it." She agreed. She paused a second, sniffed.

_...Ajax is here..._

She wrinkled her nose. "You can come out now, Ajax." She called out. "Come share your new toy."

Ajax

Despite the fact that he got made so quickly, Ajax was pleased to see the look of shock on the faces of Tyler, Nines, and Damsel. That shock probably had more to do with the fact that he was able to breach the joke that passed for security in this dump than anything else. Cameron and Marko knew he was coming, and it was no surprise that Fenris caught him; Gangrel are cagey like that. Jack was older than the hills, so it was unlikely anything caught him off guard anymore. Janette was a Kook, so there was no telling how she would respond to anything; ever.

He came out of obfuscate into the Steam Pipe, the Setite slung over his shoulder. He dropped the Setite onto the table that Jack was sitting in front of like a sack of potatoes. Cameron stood, arms crossed, unimpressed. Janette clapped, giggling quietly.

"What do we have here?" She cooed. "Is this a chew toy for us play with?"

"What took you so long?" Cameron asked. "Your route should have been quicker than ours."

Ajax glared at Cameron. "Listen, Cammie. When you lug what amounts to a dead body through a rat infested tunnel while knee deep in shit – literally – then you can talk about what takes so long." It wasn't exactly a lie; but then again it didn't really answer the Ventrue's question. The reason for his delay was that he made a stop to pick something up. En route to the Last Round, he made a quick detour and had a meet with Mitnick.

"Good see you, Newbie," Mitnick had said. "Bertram said you called; needed a silencer for a .45. What's going on?"

"It's probably best you don't know just yet." Ajax replied, taking the silencer that Mitnick was holding out to him.

Mitnick barked out his slobbering laughter. "Oh, I get it," he had said. "This is some kind James Bond thing, right? Well, at least those morons on topside finally got the right man for the job. Good luck, Newbie."

The reason he wanted the silencer was so he could dust the Setite without making a lot of noise at the Last Round once they were done questioning him. Actually, Ajax doubted asking this religious zealot questions was going to do a bit of good. This was going to take either Cammie with his dominate or Marko with his Auspex; X has better Auspex than either Tabetha or Marko – as far as he knew – but X was out of town and Tabetha was out of commission, which took her out of the running for dominate as well. Cammie was better at using the dominate powers anyway. He attached the silencer to the .45 he took from Cammie, mildly surprised the Ventrue didn't demand it back right away. That was a bit of luck; Ajax figured Cameron might take the snake out before any interrogation.

There in the Steam Pipe, Ajax noticed Cameron was indeed reaching for his piece, apparently moved to do so as Tyler handed Fenris a customized shotgun and a few flares. Without a word, Ajax patted the handle of the .45 sticking out of his waistband. Cameron mouthed some curse at him.

"What we have here, Janette is the piece of crap serpent that butchered Cammie's girl-ghoul and took Tabetha down." Ajax explained. "We figured we should bring him here whole to see if we could find out anything else about his little cult's activities in our city."

"You figured." Cameron interrupted. "I really don't see much point to this. He's not likely to talk willingly, and what do we think we'll get from him through Dominate or Auspex?"

"I can think of a couple of things."

They all turned to face the entrance of the Steam Pipe where Tabetha was standing. As she stepped forward and towards the Setite on the table, the others cleared a path for her; Ajax even took a step back, and even Jack got up and moved away from the table as she approached. Something was different about her; whatever it was, it was nothing Ajax had ever seen before.

"The Wizard King did something to his Tabby-Cat..." Marko noted in a kind of sing-song voice. "Best to let them do their thing."

"Thank you, Marko." She said to him. It was her voice, but she had the exact same dead calm tone of detachment that Max was infamous for. She turned her attention back to the Setite, examining him as if he was a patient. "Let's see what we can find."

Xavier

Something wasn't right. Ezekiel was too quick to have him detained, even without the Malkavian Seneschal's insight; which would have told the Prince that Xavier was telling the truth. He really did try to contact Cassandra the night before. She may well have been missing for a week or more, and the imposter may have only made his or her first mistake. It seemed to Xavier like Prince Ezekiel was deliberately ignoring that possibility; as if he had some reason to make sure this imposter was allowed to operate without interference.

Bruno the Bruja and the Sheriff ushered Xavier back down the elevator; the descent seeming to last forever. For a second, he entertained the idea that he might be being escorted into whatever sort of Nosferatu Warren that San Francisco might have. When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, the corridor that stretched out in front of them did little to change that idea. It was remarkably clean, but also clearly impossibly old and dark. The Sheriff, still holding his arm, guided him into the corridor. As they stepped into the dark, Xavier had a very distinct sense of being watched; almost as if from within his own mind. His first thought was it was the Seneschal upstairs. He tried to push the feeling out and away, but whatever it was, it was simply too strong.

"Thank you Bruno," the Sheriff hissed through her teeth. "I'll take him the rest of the way."

"Yes, Madame Sheriff." Bruno replied with what seemed to Xavier an exaggerated bow as the elevator doors shut, dividing him from the two of them.

The bones in the Sheriff's hand creaked and cracked as her gripped tightened almost painfully and the Sheriff quite literally dragged Xavier through the corridor, taking turns into passages that Xavier barely had time to register existed. This labyrinth route came to an end in a cul-de-sac type room with a hole in the centre; Xavier thought it was something like a well, and propped up on a far wall was what had to be a lid. If Xavier was going to keep himself out that hole, he had to do something now. He realized quickly that trying to break her grip would prove futile so he waited until she was just about to toss him in. Her grip loosened; he twisted free and got behind her, pushing her into the well. Ignoring her ear-piercing screeches, he darted to the lid which he put on top of the well. Still uncertain if he was in the Warrens or not, he wasn't sure if this would do much good, but it might buy him some time. One thing he had going for him; despite the speed which he was ushered though the labyrinth, he remembered the entire route back to the elevator. Spending some blood to activate Celerity, he weaved and turned back. The elevator opened and a figure was standing behind the doors, waiting for him; Prince Ezekiel.

Tabetha

Buried within her own sense of self, Tabetha Toussaint watched as Master Strauss probed the mind of the Setite on the table in what served as a private room in the Last Round. All this was happening in her body, though her consciousness was temporarily held back as Max had effectively possessed her so he could do the reading through her. For Tabetha, it was like a waking dream; she was perfectly aware of what she was doing, but powerless to stop it as if someone else was really doing it all for her. Then again, she supposed that was exactly what was happening. This was a waking dream come true. She wondered briefly is this was how Marko felt; or Janette, for that matter.

"Most interesting," Strauss said with her voice.

"What do you see, Tabby Cat?" Janette and Marko asked in unison.

"This one is rare among the snake clan," Max replied. "A soldier within their religion; very well trained. Even unconscious he resists. He is of low rank, and therefore is privy only to the minimum of details in both lore and plans. The one thing I do consistently is that the Followers are setting up a trap."

"As if that should come as surprise," Cameron scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Who is the trap being set for?"

Max turned her gaze to set on Cameron with disapproval at his insolence; then quickly let it go, remembering where and 'who' he was.

"That is not information this one was privy to, Cameron." He replied, still with her voice. It was kind of weird for her to hear her mentor speak to Cameron as an equal, even if he was for all intents and purposes her.

Cameron sighed in exasperation. "Well, that's just..."

"It's smart, Cammie." Damsel interrupted him with her signature contempt.

"Good strategy says you only tell your foot soldiers what they absolutely need to know, kiddo," Jack added. "This way they can't blow the whole plan if they get captured."

From her perspective, Tabetha could tell that her mentor was holding something back, but couldn't tell what it was. Jack's comment served well to enlighten her; it made sense. Master Strauss probably did know more about this trap than he was letting on, and was waiting until there were no Anarch ears to hear the details. Using her inner voice, she pleaded with her mentor to take them back to the Chantry; she wanted to know what he knew, and was getting quite unnerved by being a spectator in her own body.

_Of course, my apprentice, _He acknowledged her telepathically. _We have all we need from this Serpent now._

Ajax glanced from 'Tabetha' to Marko and back again. "So we're done with this piece of crap, right?" He said in measured tones.

"Yes," Strauss agreed, again with her voice. "We are done with him."

"Good," Ajax said just as the Setite was starting to stir. He angled himself so that when the Setite opened his eyes the first thing he would see would be the face of the Nosferatu grinning a killer's grin at him, and then he pulled a .45 with a silencer on it from his waist band. He then pointed the gun at the Setites' face and pulled the trigger twice.

The muffled report from the gun was easily drowned out by the music in bar, as were the brief cries of protest from the others in the room – except for Cameron, who seemed pleased – about the mess of ashes left behind on the table.

As Master Strauss turned her around to exit the Last Round with Cameron, Ajax, Marko, and Janette following closely behind, Tabetha could hear Nines make a comment about being lucky the noise was drowned out. Once outside, Janette hopped into a cab, babbling something about having a date with her sister. Marko stayed in close company with Ajax and Cameron.

Tabetha was kind of loathing having to admit it, but she was a little bit impressed with Cameron. It appeared as if he somehow managed to align both the Malkavian _and _the Nosferatu with the Camarilla. Maybe there was something to be said for the Ventrue after all...

Cameron

Cameron decided that he would let the Nosferatu keep the gun. The fool was trying to piss him off by stealing the satisfaction of killing the serpent, but in the end of it all actually did him a favor. Either way, the one who cost him a rather valuable ghoul was still just as decidedly destroyed; and now his own cover amongst the Setites was completely intact. It was Ajax who had the gun; it was Ajax who did the actual killing. He himself was free of blame. While it was incontinent to have to train a new ghoul to manage the hotel, it wasn't a loss he couldn't cope with; the gun itself was really a small price to pay for what worked out as a win all around.

"I think your Tremere pal is holding out on us." Ajax said.

"I have no doubt she is," Cameron agreed. "We'd do well to find out what."

"The Tabby Cat was hidden in her think-box," Marko corrected. "The Wizard-king is the keeper of the secret lore."

"I thought you might know what was up with the weird way Tabetha was carrying herself back there," Ajax said. "Since you seem to be in good with Warlocks, maybe you can pry what they know out of them."

"That," Cameron said, throwing an approving glance at the Nosferatu, "is an absolutely capital idea. Marko, you go see what you can learn from Max. As for me, I think it's obvious I have some affairs to attend to at my hotel."

"Yeah," Ajax agreed. "And I'm going to go check out what Tyler and Fenris are up to."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's going to be messy with all that hardware the big guy is sporting." Cameron quipped. "They might need you to help cover their tracks."

As Ajax went off to follow the Brujah and the Gangrel, Cameron changed direction and made his way to the Skyline apartments; he had to look into something first. Once he got to his fourth floor apartment, he locked the door behind him and took a B-line for his computer. Hopefully, he had received an update from San Francisco by now and possibly on the matter concerning the Assamite. It appeared that Fenris, who was hell bent on tracking him or her down, was at least temporarily diverted from her personal little quest.

He logged in to check his messages and smiled; he liked the news he saw. It seemed like the things he set in motion weeks ago were serving well to deal with the situations he was dealing with tonight. So far, it all seemed so perfect...

"What a tangled and intricate web it is you weave within the convoluted halls of the ivory tower, young Ventrue."

Cameron spun around; more in surprised frustration than any kind of fear. His lack of security was really proving to be a problem. In a darkened corner of the room, he saw a figure standing, presumably the source of the voice that just spoke to him. The figure was that of a man; tall and darkened from within the shadows, and his voice rich and full of a dark warm intensity that Cameron was sure he recognized, though he couldn't place where from. Cameron couldn't see his face, but somehow he knew that was probably for the best. The presence of this intruder made his legs feel like they were made of water. It was all Cameron could do to keep from falling on his face. Any bravado he may have had was sapped from him like a sponge draws up spilled milk.

"Who are you?" Cameron asked, thankful that he kept the trembling in his legs and not in his voice. "How did you get in here, and why have you come?"

Cameron could feel a cold smile cross the figure's lips. "Be at ease, child." The Dark Man said. "For a long time I believed the Camarilla would keep the Kindred from destroying themselves; and there is yet a chance that belief will prove worthwhile. Take care, Kindred; let not your webs and plans for personal gain exceed that which is for the greater good."

Cameron turned away and gazed out a window overlooking the street below. Though he was doing this because looking at the Dark Man directly was getting to be more than he could bear, he was hoping it would present as confidence. "I know what I'm doing." He replied. "And what is good for me will prove to be the best interest of all, I assure you."

"Is it indeed?" the Dark Man asked. "We shall see, Ventrue. We shall see. Choose your allies carefully, young one. The wrong ally is even worse than the right enemy."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Cameron whirled to face the Dark Man again, only to find an empty space where he once was standing. Whoever he was, he was gone now. All that was left was a final word from the same warm, dark voice speaking to him telepathically:

_Remember this: Watch the Gangrel. When they are uneasy, it is time to leave. _


	3. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Tyler

The junkie was definitely sketching out. Tyler had seen this kind of scene before; most of his mortal family died of overdose before he got to college on his football scholarship. Based on the body language Fenris was giving off, he could guess she knew this kind of situation all too well, too. This guy was beyond dope sick; it was actually a little surprising he was even remotely coherent. Whoever he was, he'd been courting Madame H for some time. The Setites had messed this poor fool up badly.

"Are you guys going to see the doctor?" he managed to stammer out once he reached them about a block away from the den. Fenris pointed him out as he exited the den, apparently agitated. "You're on way to see Doctor Barrett, right?"

"Yeah, we are," Tyler confirmed. "Is he in?"

"Yeah, he's in," the junkie told them. "But he's being a dick! I've been nothing but a loyal patient since he showed up, and I forget to make an appointment once the whole time and he won't see me! Can you believe that bullshit?"

"What do you mean?" Fenris asked.

The junkie looked at her as if she was out of the loop, and then must have decided she must be new. "To get your prescription, you have to make an appointment. Usually he lets it go, but not tonight. Tonight he's not seeing anybody without an appointment. No exceptions."

"We know that," Tyler bluffed. "What she meant was why the lockdown?"

The junkie shrugged. "Because he's being a dick!" he shouted towards the den.

"I hear you," Fenris said, almost sympathetic. "It doesn't matter much anyway. We have our appointments. Don't we, Tye?"

"You do?" the junkie inquired.

Tyler nodded.

"Do you have your appointment slip? That fucktard at the front desk-cage thing isn't letting anybody by without one."

"Yeah," Tyler said, patting his breast where an inside jacket pocket would be. "We got our slips." Looking at this guy brought back memories he thought were dead and buried forever; it was like watching his baby brother wither away in front of him all over again. Tyler caught a glimpse of Fenris; the Gangrel was actually trembling with some kind of deep-seeded rage. Chances were good the junkie would see her and assume she was just jonesing. Tyler new better; seeing her trembling like that made him nervous. She was getting a little too close to Frenzy for his liking. What disturbed even more was that he could relate; he was getting close, too.

"Hey, do you think you can help me out?" the junkie asked hopefully. "Do you think you could score me? I'll get you back, just ask around and you'll see I'm good for it."

"We'll see." Fenris replied, her voice full of ice. "Come on, Tye; we gotta go now."

They moved past the junkie and down the block towards the den. Tyler knew the place well; this was the place where he took that maniac Plague Bearer Bishop Vick down. Since he already knew the lay of the place, it was probably best if he too point on this operation. The Gangrel didn't seem to show any disagreement. Still, he had to be sure.

"I'll take point." He said, hoping it didn't sound like an order.

"Fine," Fenris said dryly.

Tyler nodded. "You know, you might want to check that beast at the door." He said just as they were about to enter.

Fenris chuckled. "So says the kettle to the pot..."

It was Tyler's turn to be cold. "Fair enough," he said. "Are you ready?"

Fenris nodded. They went in. Inside, they quickly found the desk inside the cage where a ghoul sat waiting. Fastened to the cage just above a cash slot was a sign that read "BY APPOINTMENT ONLY. NO EXCEPTIONS!"

Tyler got to the desk first, Fenris behind and slightly to the right. "Hi," he said to the ghoul. "We're here for our appointment with Doctor Barrett." He was planning on striking a rapport with the ghoul and then giving him a whammy of presence to smooth their way in.

"Is that so?" the ghoul responded, obviously not impressed with the jock and his hipster girlfriend he saw. "Good for you. All we need now is your appointment slip and we can hook you up."

"I have them," Fenris interjected weaving in front of Tyler as she cocked the custom shotgun. She wedged the muzzle into the money slot. "Right here." She said just before pulling the trigger.

Fenris

"Son of a BITCH!" Tyler shouted, whirling around towards the main waiting room to lay cover for them with a burst from his Uzi. He took down three Setites before they could so much as draw their weapons, leaving them as piles of ashes.

Fenris got a grim pleasure out of blowing the ghoul at the front desk away. He reminded her of a John that used her badly in her former life; the life she ran away from before coming to Los Angeles from Chicago. The life she tried to escape before meeting with her sire. The life she abandoned only to die and rise again as a shell of her former self. Within her first few nights, before Lacroix had her sire killed in that mass bloodbath at the Nocturne, Jack told her that blood was her new heroin. He was right. Fenris briefly wondered if Jack knew just how accurate that analogy was in her case; probably, she figured. She probably wasn't all that hard to read.

Two more rather beefy looking Serpents came charging down a nearby staircase, weapons already drawn; one was armed with a pistol, the other a Machete. Fenris called on a swarm of rats she heard scurrying in the walls to attack Pistol, cocked the shotgun and opened fire on Machete. Rats were more a Nosferatu thing, but Fenris learned very early on that you have to work with whatever is available. She guessed the rats were kept as emergency sustenance; now they would get a little bit of payback on these filthy snakes. They swarmed Pistol; not causing much damage but providing a very annoying distraction. Machete jumped to one side, causing her shot blow an almost artful spray pattern of shot into the wall. X might have appreciated it; at the moment Fenris did not.

Forsaking the Uzi, Tyler burst into motion as a blur – it had to be Celerity – and was all over Machete in a blink of an eye. Before Fenris could fully grasp what was happening, Tyler had wrenched the blade from Machete's grasp and sliced into him with three strokes, reducing him to ash. Judging from the fact that the blade was broken when Tyler stopped moving, Fenris guesses that Tyler was probably using Potence as well. By this time, Pistol had shaken the rats off and changed into a form that resembled a perverse hybrid of man and snake. It reared its head back and lashed out with its tongue; snapping it square between Tyler's shoulder blades. Tyler yelped in pain, and the snake-man coiled up and then pounced towards the Brujah. Charging in, Fenris changed her form into a wolf and intercepted the pounce in mid air; crashing into the snake man and pinning it to the floor as she lunged forward in effort to clamp her jaws around what should be its throat. It was quick enough to raise its left arm in her path, causing her to clamp down on its wrist instead; it hissed in agony just the same when she jerked her head back and forth, ripping its hand off. Tossing the hand aside like a piece of unwanted spoiled meat, she lunged again for the throat; this time she didn't miss. In fairly short order, the snake man was ash.

There was a sharp pain in her upper rear right leg; something had bitten her. Yelping, Fenris kicked whatever it was off and saw a large snake slither into a group – at least a dozen – or snakes all similar in size. She reverted back to her original form, and both she and Tyler quickly saw they were surrounded by dozens of the damned things. Tyler handed her a signal flare, and held one himself.

"Are you ready to run?" He asked.

Fenris nodded. She wasn't one who talked much in a fight.

He lit his and tossed it up the stairs. Something that sounded like a window smashing could be heard upstairs as she lit hers and lobbed it into the pile of snakes where the one that bit her slithered into. Tyler had already lit and tossed another one into the room and was in the process of lighting another while making a break for the nearest boarded up window. It was off to the side of the building.

The place was going up. Fenris wasted no time. She activated the full extent of her Fortitude and followed Tyler, only slightly disappointed that they didn't get to meet the 'doctor'. Once outside, Fenris kept running down the side alley away from the building. She _hated _fire. Tyler was close behind, but obviously stuck back a second or two to toss a couple more lit flares in through the window; just to make sure the place would burn to the ground. The route they were taking would get the Confession, Fenris noted. For a second, she could smell the unmistakable bleach bath stink of Ajax even through the rank odor or char, sickness, death, and shit from the building. Ajax's scent quickly faded, so either it was a lingering hint of his recent presence or he ducked away before anybody would spot him.

As a general rule, Fenris disliked the Clubs, but Confession was usually less offensive than the Last Round or Asylum – which had a distinct stench of lunacy to it – and was often even better than the Pit, so she didn't mind the idea of grabbing a quick bite there. Of the clubs and bars, Vesuvius was the most tolerable. Other than the inevitable smell of coital energy, VV kept the place very clean. Fenris imagined the sex smell was trapped in the place; given it was a strip club. Given that Confession was co-owned by a clean freak in Tyler and another clean freak in Venus, it came as no surprise that it would be among the more tolerable locations. On the way, Tyler mentioned that tonight was scheduled to be a hip-hop night.

"Cool," Fenris said dryly; though she was genuinely glad to hear it. It would be a good change from the seemingly endless stream of gothic, punk, industrial, or trance that just about everywhere else seemed to play. The route Tyler was taking wasn't quite direct; but it made sense to put some distance between them and the fire, so Fenris followed without argument.

They finally stepped out of the alleys and circled around the renovated church. They were just about to step through the gate into the front court in front of the high-arched doors when a dark haired lady with almost hypnotic green eyes that seemed to nearly glow in the dark caught up to them. Fenris immediately noticed something was wrong with her; she seemed to be utterly inhuman, yet in perfect control of herself. What was also odd about her was the complete lack of scent. It was like she wasn't even there. Her grin was both inviting and intimidating as she glided towards them.

"Well," she said. "When I see a pair of youngsters go and burn a snake pit like that down like it's nothing, I just _have _to know who they are." Her voice was the stuff one only hears in their most erotic dreams; whoever this dark lady was, she could give VV a few pointers. If it wasn't for the bizarre and complete lack of odor, Fenris might well have found her enraptured by this beauty.

Tyler was buying it; completely. "Oh yeah?" he replied, smiling broadly. "Well, in that case, welcome Confession, my club. I'm Tyler, this is Fenris." He stuck out his hand, offering it to the dark visitor.

"Kaila," she said, taking his hand. "So this is your club? Well done, Tyler; I take it then that you're the man in charge around these parts?"

Fenris guffawed. "That'll be the night," she said. "Actually, nobody is really 'in charge' around here."

Kaila turned her gaze to Fenris. "Oh," she cooed. "So this is an Anarch state. That's even better."

Clearing his throat, Tyler interjected. "Yeah, it's pretty cool; I think it might be best if we took this little chat inside." He took Kaila by the hand and led her towards the door.

"Yeah, Tyler," Fenris called from behind. "I'll just grab a quick drink and get back to the Last Round. One of us should make sure Damsel and the others are kept in the loop."

Tyler waved her off, leading his new friend to a table. Wading into the sea of Hip-Hoppers on the dance floor, Fenris pondered on just how Damsel would react to Kaila; and how much she should tell her.

Marko

_Sheeeeee's heeere!_

A little girl, perhaps five years old, was in the Network now; or at least someone who sounded like a five year old girl. It took everything Mark Oxford had to not audibly ask who was here.

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

That was someone he knew all too well. Marko called him the worry wart. The worry was always anxious; everything was trouble to him. The aggravating thing was he was usually right. All the same, that was something Marko would have to think about later.

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

Right now, the Wizard Chantry was locked as tight as a can of Fancy Feast; whatever the Wizard King had to tell his Tabby-cat was for her ears only. Over the years, lots of the Dark Father's children warned him that the Tremere liked their secrets; even the Nosferatu had a hell of a time prying anything important loose from them. Marko and all his voices could agree that this made for good reason to be suspicious of the Warlocks; whom many older vampires called Usurpers. He contemplated trying to break in to sneak a little listen in, but thought better of it; crazy didn't mean stupid, and insane didn't always mean suicidal.

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

That was when he noticed a fire breaking out a few blocks away; and fire engines blaring away as they raced to the scene. Like any other Kindred, Marko associated fire with trouble, so maybe that was what the worry wart was screaming about. Thinking about trouble often made him think about Janette, so he decided the best thing to do was check to see if she was safe.

He took his phone and dialed Janette; if her phone was on, she would answer. It went to voice mail. Marko hung up. Janette must have turned off the phone and given _it _back to Therese. He dialed Therese. If they were safe, Therese's phone would be on, and she would answer.  
The phone rang once.  
The phone rang twice.  
The phone rang three times.

"This is Therese Vooreman." She answered just as Marko was starting to get a little worried. "To whom am I speaking?" Always so proper in her etiquette she was; even with the invention of call display.

"My voices and I bid you a good evening, dark daughter!" Marko replied. He added, just to play along with Therese's delusion: "I trust the white princess made it home safe?"

"Good evening, Marko." Therese returned his greeting. "Yes, Janette is quite safe, and entertaining the hedonists downstairs. She tells me there was quite the spectacle at the Last Round tonight. I understand you were involved in the capture of a Setite soldier?"

"This is the truth." Marko confirmed. "Though the larger part of the credit belongs to the Cleaning Agent; then he shot the snake dead after Tabby-Cat did a mind meld. We think the Wizard King gave her a boost."

"Janette said that much," Therese said with a touch of impatience. "She also indicated that the soldier was privy to very little; only that there was a trap laid out. Have you anything to add to that?"

"The Warlocks house is locked up." Marko announced. "Jack pointed out that a good strategist limits the flow of information. They...know...something."

_It's all about her._

"Also, Dirty Duckling has one wing in the Ivory Tower and the other wing in the Temple of Set. He's beneath the sheets."

Therese was silent for a moment. Marko was sure he could actually hear the gears of her mind turning and spinning like a finely oiled but incomprehensible machine. His mind's eye could see that thin, sinister grin cross her lips; the very grin that made most of the local Kindred realize that the dark daughter was really the more dangerous head of Gemini.

"None of that comes as a surprise," she said finally with a cold, detached patience that might make the Wizard King blink. "The Tremere will always have their secrets, and Cameron with his schemes is bound to stake himself one of these nights. I think you're done out there for tonight; come back to Santa Monica. Once you're home, go to Vandal. He reports his reserve is running a little thin. Then, first thing tomorrow night, we have a few things to work out."

_The tongue wags in the ears of the White Princess._

"By any chance, has the White Princess talked to Bertram, lately?" He asked. He could almost feel Therese scowl at him in frustration.

"That's part of what we have to discuss." She said tersely. "Come home. Help Vandal. Get some rest." Then she hung up.

Putting his phone away, Marko hailed a cab. One came for him immediately, as if waiting specifically for his beckoning call.

"Where to?" the Driver asked, his voice warm and rich with an inky black darkness. Marko recognized the voice of the Driver immediately; the Dark Father. Without a word, he managed to climb into the cab despite his quaking knees. He wondered why the Network didn't warn him; or if _this _was what the Worry Wart was in a panic about.

_He wouldn't let us..._

After that, the Network fell dead silent. Inside the cab, all was silence except for what was in the cab. The cab was the entirety of the street, the city, the state, the country, the world, and all of space. There was Marko, the Dark Father, and the Cab. The rest was silence. Is this what sanity was like? If so, Marko wanted out of it right now. The Cab began to move through the Silence.

"We meet again," he said carefully.

"Indeed we do, child of Malkav." the Dark Father acknowledged. "It comes as no real surprise that one of your Clan remembers. It is such a rarity; the young Ventrue recognizes but does not remember, and I have come to suspect that nothing of significance ever escapes the memory of Jack."

"What do you want from me?" Marko asked, straining not to scream in an effort to break the Silence.

"It is not what I want you should concern yourself with, Malkavian," The Dark Father insisted, almost gently. "Think instead on what it is you want."

"You mean besides out of here?" Even before the words were out, Mark Oxford wished he didn't say them. "That came out wrong." He added hastily.

The Dark Father said nothing at all. Marko squirmed. Now the Silence was starting to infiltrate the Cab. The Silence got so loud he was quite certain his ears would start bleeding any moment. He resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears to keep the blood in his head and the Silence out. Still the Dark Father said nothing; he only drove, his eyes hidden behind a pair of shades. His head was angled so he could literally have one eye on the road and one on him in the back seat. Marko shivered. He started to remember the last time they spoke. He warned the path of the Anarch would be endless struggle as one after another others would come to impose their idea of order upon them. He was right, it would seem. Marko sided with the numbered man and his crew anyway, and the Jester was taken down and blown up by a Jack in the box. Now there were snakes in courtyard; poisoning everything. Would this happen in the Ivory Tower? Would the Ivory Tower have handled things any better?

"I don't know what I want." He said plainly. He shrugged; never in two lives had he ever felt so helpless. "Help me."

"A Rose is on the brink of freshening the Ivory Tower, whether it means to or not." The Dark Father spoke finally.

Even without the Network, Marko knew he meant Xavier. He meant that X was getting played, and that much of what he did would determine the outcome of what happened in Los Angeles. He also knew that Therese would be all in favor of a Camarilla resurrection. As far as he knew Janette wouldn't care one way or the other. The problem was that if X did help the Tower, then there was a good chance that all of the Coast would belong to the Hastings Family; though if the snakes were banished that might not be so bad...

"No pressure, X," Marko muttered. "It looks like you're cast as Saint Patrick in this play."

"So now we come once again to a crossroads. Once again you must choose." The Dark Father said. "You tell me, child, where shall I take you?"

Now that Janette and Therese were at peace, Therese really wasn't so terrible. Marko felt he could stay behind her in the Ivory Tower if it came to that. They had spoken of such things over the years; some of her ideas actually made some sense...

"I have a donation to make, first." He said.

"Very well," the Dark Driver said accommodatingly.

Ajax

Fenris and Tyler weren't the only ones who saw the junkie storm away from the Barrett building empty handed and sketching. Ajax watched for a second while the Gangrel and the Brujah pumped for information. He didn't need the review of what he already knew. Barrett was a pusher; it made sense now that he was at least working for the Setites, if not a Setite himself. The Nosferatu used their time with the junkie to work his way around to the back of the building to find a way in. There was, once, a sewer entrance, but that had since been blocked.

Barrett was a Setite, alright; a smart one, too, if he was taking steps to keep the Nos out of his base of operations. Too bad for him it isn't so easy; Ajax would find a way. The next best option he could find was a slot-like window that would drop him into a cellar of some kind. The problem was that Ajax had no idea how deep the drop was, or what was at bottom of the drop. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he slid through the window and landed on a bed of stakes; especially not himself.

He heard the report of a shotgun somewhere inside. This was followed by a burst of rapid fire, and then he could smell smoke. Where there was smoke there was bound to be fire. He was just about to back away; it would be a genuine shame if Tyler and Fenris got caught in a blaze, but self preservation had to come first. That was when there was a crashing of glass high above.

Ajax looked up to see a man in white jumping out of a window, landing in the alley maybe 12 feet away from him. The man in white was a white guy; and that was about all Ajax could tell for sure before the man raced down the alley; his back rapidly shrinking away into the night. The Nosferatu made chase; the man in white turned a corner about a block away. As he was running, it looked to Ajax that he was shifting shape, growing more phallic in shape; more flexible. Was he turning into a literal snake?

Sure enough, the den was going up in flames. Ajax cursed under quietly. He took out his phone and speed dialed Bertram. The man in white would have to wait.

"Good to hear from you, fledgling." Bertram greeted. "What do you need?"

"The Brujah and the Gangrel made a mess." Ajax reported. "I have no doubt the Fire Department is on their way. It might do us all good if their investigation chalks the cause of the fire up to faulty wiring in an old building that should have been torn down ten years ago."

"Where are you?"

"Downtown," Ajax replied, giving the location which was actually quite close to the Last Round.

"I'll get Mitnick on it," Bertram said. "Since I have you, fledgling, I should let you know that I had a little chat with Janette around back of the Asylum tonight."

"Yeah, so what does that have to do with me?"

"Don't get lippy, fledgling. I'm just about to tell you." Bertram warned. "I filled her in on that juicy tidbit you found about Cammie and the Assamites; how it looks like he arranged for the hits on the Barons and set up Skelter while he was at it. Thing is, knowing Janette as well as I do, I still don't know for sure if she told Therese."

Ajax took a guess. "You want me to make sure Therese doesn't find out and that this news stays only with the Anarchs."

"Just the opposite, fledgling; I want you to make sure Therese knows it all. She's currently a Camarilla supporter, and I have no doubt she'll seek to ruin anyone she views as a traitor to her beloved Ivory Tower. I'm willing to bet she'll see exposing a traitor as a way in." Bertram replied.

"You want more support for the Cammies?"

Absolutely, fledgling" Bertram said. He offered up an explanation. "Is the Camarilla perfect? No, but it works. Having a consolidated order is safer for all of us than a scattered bunch of petty kingdoms prone to squabbling with each other. This way, when a douche bag like Cameron comes along, he's easier to isolate. As for Therese; she's a Malkavian lunatic, but she's smart and has her merits. She's already established in the city, and if she's with us we can keep an eye on her."

"I guess..."

"Good," Bertram said. "Get your ass to Santa Monica ASAP. Make sure Therese knows all that you know about Cameron's treachery, and see if you can find out what she's going to do with that information. I'm sure it will be delicious."

Ajax asked if he knew where to find him once it was done, and Bertram told him he did. Ajax hung up and found the nearest sewer grate as he heard the fire engines approach. Even with the shortcuts he knew to Santa Monica, specifically the Asylum, he was going to be cutting it close to daylight. Imalia was going to be even more pissed off than usual. Maybe he could settle her some with a call explaining his new assignment...

...and by the time he was in the alley behind Asylum, it was pretty clear that Imalia was more displeased with Bertram than him, not that her anger would do any good. Whatever the case may be, she agreed to wait for Ajax in the Downtown bolthole haven. With that settled, Ajax slipped through a hidden entrance that led into the beer fridge for the club. Once inside, he obfuscated himself and carefully made his way through the main area of the club and towards the elevator that would take him to the office/haven that Therese and Janette shared. The elevator took him up, and opened to a small hallway where he found a door. At the door, Ajax was about to undo his obfuscate and knock...

"...one of the targets is you, Therese. Why don't you want to warn Skelter and Nines?" Janette's voice could be heard through the door. Ajax held back and placed his oversize ear closer to the door.

"Because, Janette," Therese's voice replied; almost condescending, "Cameron is obviously using the Assamite to scatter the Baronies so his little scheme with the Setites will make him out to be the big hero of the night on behalf of the Camarilla. If I...if we can just get proof of his treachery we can hold it over him so he will have no choice but to abdicate his bid for domain in favor of mine."

Ajax had to hand it to Bertram; he called it right on the nail. This wasn't quite the way Ajax thought he meant it would go down, but it made sense; in a Camarilla sort of way.

Janette's voice spoke. "You mean ours; our bid for domain."

"Of course I do, Janette. You're my sister and I would never leave you out in the cold. Haven't I always taken care of everything for both of us?" Therese reassured.

"Yes..." Janette agreed half-heartedly. "But what could you possibly offer Nines to persuade him to go along with a Camarilla domain after the Assamite is taken out?"

Therese snickered wickedly. "If this all works out the way I plan it to, I won't have to offer Nines Rodriguez anything. I'll be the only Baroness standing by then."

"What? You mean...I can't..." Janette stammered, incredulous. "That's just sick, Therese. I don't know if I can go with that."

Shocked, Ajax found himself agreeing with Janette. It was really true; as buggy as Janette was, Therese was infinitely more dangerous. He had to put a stop to this now. Maintaining his obfuscate, Ajax carefully opened the door. Looking inside, he could hardly believe what he saw. The office room was a large suite, divided in the middle by a pair of vanities back to back. One side of the suite was very austere and ordered, the other a chaotic mess. Therese was sitting in front of the mirror of the vanity on the ordered side, and Janette was nowhere to be found. Therese was talking to her reflection. That could only mean one thing; Therese and Janette was the same person.

"It's the only way, Janette." Therese said to her reflection calmly. "I know that it sounds cruel, but this Barony system is much too fraught with trouble. As little as I like him, Cameron was right to try to have the Barons removed. Now we have the means to ensure not only our survival, but to make incredible gains..." She stopped talking and snapped her head towards the door. Silent, she traded glances from the door to the mirror. Could she see him? Was her Auspex strong enough to pierce his Obfuscate? Slowly, Ajax backed away from the door and into the hallway. He could almost see Therese's mind working in as he watched the contortions of her face in the silence.

Finally, she stood up, looked into the mirror. "I've told you this a hundred times, Janette!" she shouted. "You have to make sure the door is closed tightly when we have our talks!"

"I did!" she shouted again, slightly altering her voice as if speaking as Janette. She pointed towards the door and spoke as Therese again as she stormed across the room towards it.

"Look! Obviously you did not!" She slammed the door on his face.

Still not certain if he was made or not, Ajax retreated; the sound of Therese's voice vacillating between identities growing muffled as he got back to the elevator. He had a lot to tell Bertram. From the nightclub, it was a fairly easy walk through the alleys to get to Bertram's haven. As long as he kept his head down and hood up, he shouldn't even really need to use obfuscate to get there. The hardest part was not moving too quickly; that could attract attention.

Opening the gate to the yard, Ajax silently walked towards and into the ever-aging oil tanker that Bertram called home.

"What have you got, fledgling?" Bertram asked. Ajax had given up on getting anything resembling manners from Tung years ago; it just seemed like that wasn't the old man's way of doing things.

"Therese knows all about Cameron and his connection to the Assamite." Ajax replied. "She figures Cammie the Ventrue means to bump off all the Barons in order to make room for him to claim Domain over Los Angeles on behalf of the Camarilla."

"That's a no brainer."

"She also figures that if she only had proof positive of his part in the matter, she could use it against him and force him to step aside so she can claim Domain herself."

"That's interesting," Bertram said. "I knew was ambitious, but that goes even beyond what I anticipated."

"There's more."

"Oh really" Bertram tilted his slightly. "Do tell, fledgling."

"Therese and Janette Vooreman are not identical twins. Actually they are the same person."

Bertram was silent for a moment; the gears of his brain turning and spinning like a finely oiled machine. He laughed. "I'm surprised I never saw that. They – or she – must have gone to great length to keep that a secret. Now that we know, we have a hell of bargaining chip. Good job, fledgling." He said. "Now we have something we can use. I wonder what Therese and Janette will pay to keep their secret a secret?"

"What do you want me to do next?"

"You go back to Imalia, fledgling." Bertram instructed. "I'll deal with the 'twins'."

Xavier

"Please accept my apologies for all the subterfuge to get you alone, Toreador." Prince Ezekiel Hastings said as the elevator ascended. "Given the delicate nature of my current situation, it was an absolute necessity."

Xavier Vega made no reply; sensing that silence as a tacit acceptance of his apology was the course to take with the Prince. He had the distinct impression that the Ventrue had more to say, and that some kind of deal was forthcoming. It was best if he let _his majesty_ give his pitch, Xavier reasoned.

"I have known, of course, that Cassandra Dumont was no longer a part of my court; and in all probability she has been destroyed and replaced." He continued. "I also know that the Followers of Set have me all but surrounded, largely through the coercion of some of my top agents. The Sheriff and the Seneschal are certainly among them.

Xavier raised an eyebrow. He considered taking out his vaporizer, decided against it. "How did that happen?" he asked.

"One of the Follower's most formidable powers is the ability to remove their internal organs –including their hearts – and store them away. It should go without saying that this ability makes them incredibly difficult to harm. The older, more powerful of their Clan can even do this to other Kindred; in which case they quite literally hold the lives of their targets in their hands."

Xavier saw where this was going. "Let me guess, if I may," he offered. "Your Sheriff and Seneschal had their hearts ripped out, and are effectively under the Setites' thumb. If I were a betting man, I'd wager that you aren't supposed to know that."

The Prince nodded. "So you see where I am going with this." He more stated than asked. "And I trust that you can see why I allowed Jack to escape my City."

_That _Xavier did not expect. Jack told it like he had difficulty getting out. It took him a minute to process. Jack and Ezekiel were rivals for a long time; respected, but certainly not friends by any means. If Ezekiel _could _have captured Jack, why didn't he? Surely it would have been a glowing feather in his cap for the Camarilla to apprehend the famous 'Smiling Jack'. The only thing Xavier could think was that Ezekiel was bluffing to save face, expecting word to get out that he got _so close..._ and then turn around and act all tough like he meant for the Brujah pirate to escape as part of a bigger plan. That must be it; _unless..._

"You respect Jack, but cannot trust him." Xavier replied. "You needed him to get out and send an outside source to check out Cassandra and the coffin; one you could persuade to go and fetch a couple of hearts for you. You then return the hearts to their rightful owners, and gain their unfailing loyalty."

"The Setite Temple is an underground fortress beneath Alcatraz." Ezekiel informed him. "If the hearts are anywhere in the city, that's where they'll be."

"What about Cassandra?"

"As I said; most likely destroyed," Ezekiel said. Xavier heard genuine remorse in the Prince's voice. "She's definitely been replaced; I suspect by a fugitive that has been hunted by both the Followers and by the Camarilla for centuries named Khemintiri." He paused, grieving. "As for the sarcophagus; it's a total humbug. The whole thing is part of an elaborate scheme to lure and trap her. Make no mistake; she's not been able to elude everyone for as long as she had by being stupid. She likely knows it's a trap, but she's also quite mad. The angle being worked is that she will not be able to resist the kind of power the bait has to offer."

Xavier nodded slowly. This was a scheme he'd seen before. It occurred to him that it might not be a bad idea to let the trap go; it worked out pretty good before. Once he got back to LA he could tell VV and the others about it, let the Setites or the Cammies spring their trap, and deal with the fall out. As for helping Ezekiel, Xavier thought he saw a way to turn that around to help keep LA Cammie free.

"If I help you," he started, "how does it benefit me?"

"I have already arranged a room for you in this hotel to rest for the day and prepare yourself." Ezekiel offered, not even showing a hint of a balk. "I will provide you with everything you feel need to complete this mission. Once it's done, you may leave with no interference, and you may keep what you take for the mission."

Xavier pursed his lips, as if he thought this sounded like a pretty sweet deal. "Well, seeing as I am helping you keep your City as you like it, maybe you can help me keep ours as we like it." He countered.

"How do you propose that?"

"It's simple, really." The Toreador said softly. "Cease with all aid to Cameron Hastings, rescind in your campaign to make Los Angeles a part of your Dynasty." Xavier caught the Prince flinching for just a fraction of a second, and then he quickly composed himself. "I save your city, you save ours; that is what I am asking for."

Prince Ezekiel smiled. Xavier read in that smile that Prince suspected Velvet Velour was making moves to claim Domain; which meant he didn't understand Los Angeles at all.

"Very well, Toreador" he conceded. "Have your city. I will not attempt to usurp it. You have my word."

Satisfied, Xavier Vega got off the elevator and found the suite that the Prince had promised him in the Ivory Tower hotel.

Tabetha

Max didn't tell her everything. He told her the truth about the trap that the Setites were setting, and for whom; but when she asked him who precisely this Khemintiri was, he insisted that she must search such answers for herself. She got the distinct impression that Max was holding out in order control the flow of information like Jack said. She wouldn't call Master Strauss by his first name to his face; she wasn't that brave or stupid. Since what took place earlier that night, though, she felt a stronger connection to him than she had anyone, including her now destroyed sire. Their consciousness had become one for a time; that was the most intimate any two could ever be, even more than the most passionate sex. Perhaps that was the point; maybe Max wanted to solidify their bond.

Now sitting the Chantry library, Tabetha shook her head lightly to clear her mind of such thoughts so she could focus on her research. She wanted to know everything there was to know about this Khemintiri; whoever she was.

She started with general texts on Egyptian mythology, which basically amounted to nothing on her subject of interest. From there she went a little more specific, focusing on Sutekh; the storm god that the Followers of Set claim to worship. There she found little more. All she found there were a couple of footnotes naming her as one of his human brides that betrayed him to Horus, son of Osiris. Tabetha supposed that might be enough to make her an enemy of Set's followers, but there had to be more to the tale than that. Max did tell her she was a fugitive being hunted by both the Setites and the Camarilla, so Tabetha reasoned there had to be more about her; some kind of documentation of her crimes, reports on the hunt, anything would suffice.

There was the Red List, she remembered. Max showed it to her once. It occurred to her that if there was anything about Khemintiri, it would probably be there. Tabetha grabbed the oldest volume of the Red List she could find and started leafing through it. What she found was nothing short of terrifying. The acts she committed against the Camarilla over the centuries were some of the worst things imaginable. It shouldn't have been a surprise' given it was thought she was the progeny of Set himself; but still Tabetha was amazed that anyone could do some of the things documented here, even one as apparently deranged as this ancient was thought to be. She was also quite the escape artist, obviously; managing to evade some of the finest Archons and Justicars of the Camarilla as well as her own Clan for centuries on end. It was also said she was a master of disguise- using both conventional methods and a very complete mastery of the Obfuscate discipline. What struck Tabetha most of all was her age, and the fact that as far as anyone knew, she has been active ever since her embrace. It was no wonder that Max was so reluctant to talk about her.

Cervantes, her gargoyle, was tugging at the hem of her dress. At two feet tall, the goblin-like statue was nothing if not loyal. From the mewling sounds he was making, he was worried about something; most likely the hour. He always got like this when she was not in her suite when sunrise was approaching. Since Tabetha often got carried away with her studies; that was part of the reason she made him. She leaned over and scratched behind one of his pointy ears.

"Alright, Cervantes," she soothed. "I'm coming." She got up and put the volume away. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" she asked playfully. She found treating the gargoyle as a beloved pet seemed the most effective way to keep him loyal. "Yes, you are such a good boy..."

The library went dark. Not as if the lights went out, more like all light simply ceased to exist. Cervantes whimpered in a manner that almost sounded like he was saying the words 'oh no' as a complete and true darkness filled the room.

"Take care, Usurper," the Darkness spoke in a voice with a warmth and intensity that was alternately soothing and unnerving in its familiarity. "Wisdom sets limits; even to knowledge."

The Darkness was paraphrasing Nietzsche; Twilight of the Idols, to be precise. There was an irony to that which was not lost on her. Where did she know that voice from? Rather, why did she feel like she knew, but was somehow being blocked from knowing at the same time? She wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come out of her mouth. It was not the first time she had been called a Usurper; and she could only guess as to why. Something to do with the history of her Clan, she supposed.

"Why do you call House and Clan Tremere that?" she finally managed. "And why have you come to our Chantry?"

"Your Clan, by rights, should not be." The Darkness replied. "Your founders stole the gift from the Dragon Clan, and now it is their blood that runs in your veins. I have come with a cautionary note; nothing more."

"What note is that?"

"Take care that the blood you carry does not bite its own tail." The Darkness said.

"I don't understand." Tabetha said. This was completely true. "What does that mean?"

The Darkness emitted what sounded like a chuckle; chilling her bones with its warmth. "It is better if I show you..."

_Then the floor, the walls, the ceiling, everything melted away. It was all just gone. Only she and the Darkness remained. Her first instinct was to activate her magic to keep herself in one place; but it quickly became apparent that would do no good. She began to fall. It was impossible to determine which direction she was falling; it was more like tumbling, really. As far as direction was concerned, the truest way to describe the sensation was to say it was less like she was moving, and more like the Darkness was moving around her; like it was carrying her somewhere. With nothing to serve as a reference, she could not determine how far or how long it was before she saw a tiny light in the distance; bright around the edges and dimmer in the middle. As the light drew closer, she saw first that it was a ring, then not a ring but actually seven point of light fairly close together. Closer still, she could see the points of light were fire, but here in the darkness the torches caused no panic for her. The Darkness began to fade as she glided ever closer to the seven torches until she was hovering above them; they were in a room with symbols she recognized from her studies in the Magic Strauss had taught her. The floor was marked with the Clan symbol representing the uniforce of House and Clan. In the centre of the room was an altar, and placed on the altar was some kind of package wrapped in a wet looking substance-black and red. To Tabetha it looked like a bleeding cocoon. Around the altar there were seven robed figures, each standing in perfect alignment with one of the seven torches. They seemed to be studying the cocoon. With their hoods up, she could not tell if they were male or female. She drifted a little bit closer to the altar from above and one of the seven figures – a woman, clearly a vampire – looked up at her. It was apparent she saw Tabetha; though she did not seem pleased at her presence, she did not stop her approach. The woman and the others slowly backed away, and Tabetha hovered directly above the cocoon. _

_The cocoon was quite huge; as large as a coffin for grown man of six feet tall. Up close it really was some sort of cocoon composed of what certainly seemed like a mix of Blood and a kind of alien black substance; like ink but not ink, like really crude oil from Alberta but not oil at all, like tar but not tar, nor was it any clear combination of all of these. It had an almost papery texture to it, but more organic somehow; less processed, as if like either a leaf or a cloth that had no grain to it. She drew closer still, and sensed that it – or whatever was inside of it – had a clear intelligence that was both human and monstrous. The cocoon rippled when she got within touching distance, and she somehow knew it knew she was there; it was beckoning her. Without even thinking about it, she reached out to put her hand on it and gasped as a tendril shot out from within it. The tendril shot out like a spear or a lance straight into her mouth..._

...and Tabetha Toussaint woke in her bed cursing and spitting. She looked around and saw she was in her suite, completely dark though not as dark as the Darkness she experienced in the Library. _How did I get here? Where was I? _ Her curtains were drawn, blocking even the tiniest ray of the sun from spilling into the room, but from how groggy and disoriented she felt she knew it had to be daylight. She itched. Looking at her hands and arms, she saw why. There were black veins traced all through them like spider webs, slowly fading away. Once they were gone, the itching ceased. She took another look around and saw that Cervantes was crouched a ledge near the window, clutching the drawstring to the curtain, regarding her with a nearly panicked expression on his imp-like goblin face. Whatever had happened, her loyal pet got her to her room, in bed, and drew the curtains closed in time to save her life.

She grinned. "Thank you Cervantes," she said to the statue, blowing it a kiss. The expression slowly began to change to one of both relief and a kind of joy or pride over a job well done. Though she wanted to know exactly what happened to her, she had neither the strength nor the will at this hour. She set herself back down and fell asleep quickly.

Cameron

Cameron Hastings was uneasy after his uninvited guest had vanished. His uneasiness was not just about his apparent lack of security, though that was an issue. That could be dealt with easily enough. It was more about what the uninvited guest had said; not the nonsense about the Gangrel, he could care less about that. It was his commentary about the Camarilla and enemies and allies that bothered him.

He was right, of course; the wrong ally was worse than the right enemy. Cameron knew that. The wrong ally would turn on you and stab you from behind with a poisoned dagger if given the chance. At least with right enemy you could be sure of their intent to do you harm. Cameron was sure that Prince Ezekiel in San Francisco and even 'Smiling' Jack with all his cute little tricks would understand that. What truly bothered him was the timing of this caveat. Who was this dark visitor talking about?

Not the Nosferatu, Cameron believed. History would show that the Sewer Rats were never really 'allies' to anyone other than themselves. They made a point of remaining neutral, and as long their prices were met, they betrayed nobody. This was a self preservation tactic that has apparently proven effective for centuries. Begrudgingly, Cameron had to respect that. Cameron also realized that only a fool would fully trust the Tremere, the honorable bastards that they were. None could dispute the contributions they made to the Camarilla and the survival of the Kindred, but their motives were clearly always in their self interest. Cameron respected that, too; admired their ways, even. Respect, admire, but never trust the Tremere; and certainly do not turn your back to them, ever. That was Cameron's motto concerning the Warlocks. That left the Malkavians. None could ever truly predict what they were up to, or what direction their lunacy will go. Marko normally seemed pretty straight forward and up front, but his affair with Janette and loyalty to Therese could cause serious problems; especially Therese. She was both smart and ambitious; add that to her insanity and that made her especially dangerous. Certainly, she had a distinct desire to join the Ivory Tower, and that made her a potential ally. What was uncertain was how high in the ranks of the Camarilla did she want to climb, and what she was willing to do to get where she wanted to be. That made her a possible threat to him personally. She would have to be watched very closely.

The problem was that after that stupid deal he made to gain at least limited access to Santa Monica, he could not safely monitor her movements directly. He could not count on Marko to watch her for him, regardless of what bribes or narratives he provided. Janette clearly disliked him even more than she disliked Therese. That was one of the few things about Janette that actually made sense. Therese was her sister; and family is family no matter what kind of sibling rivalry there might be. He could try to persuade the Nosferatu, but that didn't seem too reliable, either. Word had it that Janette had some kind of hold on Bertram – which produced an image that made Cameron cringe in disgust – that would likely prove costly and difficult to break, if it even could be broken at all.

That left Mercurio. The ghoul wouldn't like it, but he would do it. There was no guarantee that his efforts would amount to much, but Mercurio was good at his job and something was better than nothing. Also, Cameron knew he could trust his ghoul regardless of what the dark visitor might imply.

He picked up the phone and dialled Mercurio. The ghoul picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, I was just about to call you!" Mercurio greeted. "Cutting it a little close, I know, but I got some news for you."

"Go ahead," Cameron replied.

"First thing, I want you to know I heard about Heather. I'm sorry for your loss, for what it's worth, and I have already started putting feelers out for a new hotel manager. Also I was going to call to let you know that your property deal went through without a hitch. You are now the new owner of the Yen-Zen Gardens in Chinatown. Renovations and new management start their work according to your specs next week."

"Excellent!" Cameron said. Both items were very good news. "Well done, Mercurio, you have come through for me once again." This was true; and in the matter of Heather, Mercurio actually managed to anticipate his needs and got ahead of the game.

"Don't I always?"

"Yes, you do," Cameron admitted. "Which brings me to the reason I called; I need you to keep an eye on the twins, especially Therese. I know you don't like dealing with them at all, and I don't blame you for that, but this is important. Watch them carefully, and report anything you find to me directly."

"Alright," Mercurio said. There was a clear sense of reluctant resignation in his voice. "Is there anything else?"

Cameron was pleased to note that the ghoul did not question the task or even ask what it was about.

"No, that will be all for now." He said. "Thank you." He disconnected the call, and decided with that matter settled as well as it could be, it was time to turn in for the day.


	4. Behind the scenes

BEHIND THE SCENES

A/N: The following is a quick glimpse into what some of the NPC characters are doing. This segment takes place following the events of chapter 11.

Mercurio

It was around noon when Mercurio finally worked up the nerve to go to the clinic. He hated that place almost as much as he hated the Asylum. The blood bank in the clinic was run by a ghoul of Therese's making named Vandal; a total creep, as far as Mercurio was concerned. Vandal struck Mercurio as a surly, lazy, ungrateful, cowardly punk that didn't deserve the gifts that the Kindred gave. In New York, a punk like him would be dead before he hit the ground the way he mouthed off with no game to back up his talk. Yet another reason why he hated LA, but what's a guy supposed to do? If nothing else, having the kind of smarts and toughness that New York gave him, LA was easy work for a guy like Mercurio. Other than that one time with Dennis, he never got into anything bigger than he could handle.

Last night, Master Cameron gave him a job to do. He was supposed to get the goods on the twins. This morning, he learned that Janette had talked Therese into hosting an episode of that radio show 'Deb of Night' inside the Club. It was a pretty sweet idea; listeners would either come to the Club or tune in for the tunes and all that shit, and clubbers will either show up in droves to meet Deb, or at least tune it to hear their favorite watering hole get publicity – not to mention the advertising such a combo provides for both. Somehow Mercurio thought it wasn't really hard to sell Therese on the prospect. He also heard from Samantha over at the Pit that the show would be airing there in lieu of the usual band, and probably at Confession, too. Now it was time to deal with the punk. He hated to do it, but work was work, and this was as good a place to start as any.

"Well, well, well..." Vandal said from the safety of his little caged in cubicle. "Obviously your candy assed master hasn't turned you, so you must be on a little errand for him. Does he need a fix? Has he lost the belly for feeding the old fashioned way? Hey, I don't mind. Business is business."

"Yeah, good afternoon to you, too Vandal," Mercurio replied, doing his best to sound friendly. "Actually, the man's belly is just fine, as far as I know. What I'm here for is to ask about Therese..."

"Oh. No..." Vandal interrupted, "no way! You're trying to spy on the Queen Bitch. She won't like that, Jack. She won't like that one little bit! You might want to rethink what you're doing, 'cause when she's the big Queen Bitch over the whole city, there's going to be hell to pay for anyone who stands in her way. There's no way you're getting anything out of me. Forget it!" With that, Vandal slid the blind down, effectively closing the blood bank.

It didn't matter. Mercurio got plenty of what he came looking for. Leaving the Clinic, he took out his phone and texted Cameron what he learned so far; everything from the show at the club tonight to what might be Therese's plan to make moves and claim Domain over Los Angeles. He knew that the latter could only be Vandal spouting nonsense based on his twisted relationship with Therese, but it still merited looking at. He would have to go to the club later on and see if he can find more.

Janette

The first thing she did when she woke up that night, even before climbing out of bed, was call Bertram. If anyone had proof of Dirty Ducklings' ploy, it would be him. Bertram was the one who told her in the first place. Somewhere in her noodle, Therese was still asleep. That was a good thing. If she acted quickly, she might be able to get showered, dressed, out and back before Therese even knew she was gone. As soon as a meet with Bertram was secured, Janette got out of bed and pranced into the shower, ignoring the neatly made bed that Therese thought she was asleep in.

Once her shower was done and she was towelled off, Janette got herself dressed and sat in front of the vanity that marked her side of the office, much more like a home than Therese's side, Janette thought. She fixed her hair, did up her makeup, and was just about to blow herself a kiss goodbye when the image changed. Sitting before Janette in the cracked mirror was Therese; professional suit, hair tied neatly back into a single ponytail, makeup done for a business look, and wearing a custom fitted power suit to go with a pair of spectacles she no longer needed.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"To see Bertram," Janette replied, seeing no point in lying about it; especially since at the end of the night she would only be lying to herself. How Therese could forget that was beyond Janette. _People say _I'm _the crazy one. _

In the mirror, Therese grimaced. She said, "That loathsome creature, why on earth would you be going to him?"

"You want proof that Dirty Duckling is a traitor, and he has it." Janette explained. "I'm getting it from him for you."

The face in the mirror brightened. "Very well," she said. "Just be careful. Those horrible Nosferatu are bottom feeding leeches. I'm sure he'll want something in return."

"Don't worry about that, Therese. Bertram is still very much on my leash. You'll see. This will all work out well for us. This time, I'll take of you." Janette reassured, thinking it might help to imply that she was only trying to repay her 'older twin sister'.

It seemed to work. The woman in the mirror visibly relaxed her posture, apparently satisfied with her response.

"Still, I want you to be careful." Therese insisted. "You never know when one of those Sewer Rats is going to start another Plague. They are just so unclean..."

"I promise," Janette said with a giggle as she blew a kiss at the reflection. It always amused her how Therese tried so hard to be this perfect, moral, and clean woman, and yet her voice gave her away; it always sounded like she was getting off on the prospect of being exposed to filth.

Nines Rodriguez

"That was Skelter." Nines said to Damsel, hanging up the phone. "He's got everything set up. We draw the Assamite out tonight."

"Can I know where?" she asked.

"He said the Nocturne theatre." Nines told her. It made sense. The stage provided plenty of space, there were lots of watch points, and the place was soundproofed enough that whatever went down, it wouldn't cause a disturbance outside. Last night, Damsel and Fenris had a little chat, and Damsel left the Last Round, looking even more pissed off than usual.

"Fine," Damsel said. "I'll give Fenris a heads up. She's the one who got a bead on this asshole's scent, and it was her idea anyway." She turned to leave.

"Are you okay with this, Damsel?" Nines asked. "It looked like you and Fenris were just about to get into it last night."

Damsel hesitated before answering. "It's not her," she said finally. "It's Tyler. After he and Fenris torched the snake den, she says he hooked up with some new lick in town. This new bitch came on all strong and Tye just took the bait like it was nothing. Now I know that me and Tye aren't exactly married or anything but..."

"I get it, Damsel." Nines said gently. It was true. He did. Ever since the whole shit storm with Lacroix was settled, Tyler and Damsel started getting close; it was almost like Damsel was taking him on as her own child at first, but then things got pretty hot between them. Before long, it was like they were joined at the hip. Damsel did a damn good job at keeping Tyler on the right path, and since they started going like they have been, Damsel seemed to calm down a little. When you get to being that close to someone, something like what she was describing hurt; even the Kindred. In truth, in one way, Nines saw it as good sign that Damsel was hurt; it showed she still had great deal of her Humanity intact.

"I'll tell you what." Nines offered. "How about you and Tye sit this operation out so you can work it out? We don't need hot heads going into something like this. Besides, it there's a new Kindred in town, maybe you should meet her. Just try not to beat her into a bloody pulp."

Damsel gave it some thought. "That's probably a good idea," she admitted. "I'll catch Fenris up to speed and then I'll deal with Tyler and new playmate. And don't worry, I'll play it cool."

Damsel left. Once he was sure she was gone, Nines went about the business of finding Jack. He thought it might be good if somebody was close at hand to make sure things didn't get out of hand with Damsel, Tyler, and this new girl; especially not tonight.

Mercurio

"So what'll it be, chief?"

Startled, Mercurio snapped his attention away from the stage where 'Deb of Night' was being set up and towards the bar which he seated at. Karl, a grizzly bear of a man with far too many tattoos and leaning in too close was asking him what he wanted to drink.

"A dry martini," Mercurio replied, "two olives, shaken."

The bartender stood to his full height, an impressed expression on his face. "We don't get many of those around here. I tell you, it's nice to get someone who actually has some taste in this dump. I'll have it right up, chief."

It took no time flat for his drink to be served. Reluctantly, Mercurio took a sip, and was pleasantly surprised. "That's a world class Martini, my friend," he said, flipping some money onto the bar. "Keep the change." Karl the bartender took the cash, said something that Mercurio didn't catch as his attention was drawn to the elevator where Janette, wearing her schoolgirl outfit with a too short skirt and too tight blouse. Her hair was in pigtails, and she was rocking a gothic theme with her makeup.

She blew a kiss at Karl, at the guy sitting next to him, who looked like he was about to jizz in his pants, and towards the stage – this last one with a waving gesture of her arm. Skipping, she made her way towards the front exit as if she didn't have a single care in the whole world.

Mercurio turned to the excited dork beside him. Of course, it was Knox Harrington, Bertram's go-to boy. That made sense. Of course Bertram would want someone as close to the twins as possible at all times.

"You can drop the act Knox." Mercurio said. He knew that the bumbling buffoon demeanor he put up was a ruse so people would be disarmed by making the mistake of underestimating him. He'd seen the kind of work Knox could do, especially after he started working with Carson, the former Bounty Hunter that live across the hall.

"How're you doing, Mercurio?" Knox asked enthusiastically. The act was not dropped, but toned down. The kid was smart, after all. To drop the act in public would ruin the ruse.

"I'm doing alright." He replied. "Hey listen, you wouldn't happen to know where Janette is skipping off to, would you." It was risky asking Bertram's ghoul, but odds were good the Nosferatu would find out soon enough anyway.

Well sure," Knox said. "She's probably going to see Bertram. He said that he had something for her I think." Knox leaned a little closer, and continued with what passed for his personae's attempt at a whisper. "I think that means he wants to party, you know? Like there's something kinky going on between the two of them." He giggled at the thought. The idea of that made Mercurio want to shudder.

"Thanks a lot." He said. Mercurio finished his drink, fished out a couple of bills and handed them to Knox. "Here, drinks are on me. You really ought to try this man's dry Martini, it's a world class beverage, let me tell you."

"Aww, thanks man" Knox exclaimed as Mercurio left the Asylum after Janette. "You're the best!"

Janette

Dirty Duckling's ghoul was good, but not good enough; Janette saw him the minute she stepped out of the elevator back at her club. She also spotted him being his quick footed self in his attempt to tail her. She decided she would take care of that later; in fact, she had a fun idea on how to deal with Dirty Duckling's attempt to spy on them. She let Quick foot follow her all the way to Bertram's hideout, hoping he'd be able to stay hidden to see the whole show.

"I'm glad you could make it, princess." Bertram greeted her.

"Of course you are, Dumpling," Janette greeted back, holding her hand out towards him. "You said you have a present for little old me?"

"As a matter of fact I do." Dumpling confirmed as he placed a thumbdrive into her hand. "All the proof you'll need for you know what." He was avoiding specifics; he knew about the ghoul, too. Quick foot was sitting with Knox, so that was most likely how. Oh well, the show wouldn't be quite as much fun.

"It's lovely, Dumpling. What do I owe you in return?"

"For you, that's a gift, princess." Dumpling replied, and let her squeal with pleasure. "But for Therese..."

"I'll tell her she owes you a boon." Janette assured him. "I just know she'll be happy to honor that agreement.

"I'm sure you will tell her," Bertram said, "and I'm sure you're right that she'll be happy to oblige; especially since I know the real story about you two."

"What?" she blinked, not liking the way he said what just said.

"I thought that might get your attention, Princess. Let's just say I know that dynamics between the two of you isn't quite what it seems, and I know why all the subterfuge about it. I trust you and your sister want to keep your secret under wraps.

_He knows! He knows that Therese and I share the same body! How did he find out? _Janette saw a way to work around this mess without Therese ever knowing.

"Bertram, Dumpling..." Janette purred at him. "What we have, you and I, it's something special, right?"

Bertram wavered, just as she knew he would. "Yeah" he said.

"Then I need you to listen very closely to me. The dynamic between Therese and I is a broken mirror of two way glass. Therese can't see through it, but I can, and that is for her own protection. If she saw through it, she would shatter, and I can't have that. As much of a stuck up bitch that she is, she's still my sister and I love her. We dance around the mirror, playing bitter rivals in order to make sure both sides of the mirror stay clean, do you understand?"

"I do." Dumpling said. "I understand all too well." He was silent a moment, thinking about it all. She could see it in his eyes; he wanted to use this new information, but her blood in his veins wouldn't let him. Her leash was as strong as ever. Better still, he had no idea it was even there. Finally he said something. "That is why I'll keep your little dance with your sister under my mattress, and only for the standard price as per our previous agreement."

_This is perfect; just perfect. _"Okay, Dumpling, that's fair." She agreed, biting into her own wrist and offering it to him as her blood began to spill from her flesh.

He balked.

Janette hit him with a mild whammy to create a lovely delusion in his mind. "You know you want to," she said. "This is what you asked for."

Reluctantly, Bertram fell to his knees and took her wrist, placing his mouth around the wound and taking in her blood. He was slow and tentative at first, but started taking it in greedily once he got started. Just to make sure the leash stayed as strong as possible; Janette let him go a little longer than usual before she gently tugged her wrist free. She licked the wound to seal it, and finished the delusion whammy she started; as far as Bertram would know, the blood bond never happened, and all they did was bump and grind for a bit. As far as Dumpling would know, this was his way of controlling her; he traded free information and kept secrets in return for kinky favors. As far Bertram knew, this was because he genuinely adored her, and couldn't live without her.

With her whammy still on him, she told him, "Your adoration for me is real." Then she turned to leave, letting him go as she did. He would be stupefied from what he believed was the passion they shared in his crappy little oil tank on his filthy mattress. As she left, she wondered what Therese would think if she actually went through with what Dumpling believed was happening. Janette couldn't help but imagine Therese pleasuring herself in the Jacuzzi and one of her secret toys over it. _And they say _I'm _the kinky one. _

Now it was time to deal with Quick foot; a simple re-arranging of how he interprets what he heard and saw should suffice, and then it was home again, again, clickety-click... To report to Therese what Therese needed to know? Maybe she would invite Kitten over to play in Therese's bed first...

Strauss

Tabetha, his protégé, was sleeping late this evening. That was unlike her. Normally she was very punctual, and was doing remarkably well given the delicate nature of her beginnings. While this was an isolated lapse, and a minor one at that, something about it made Maximillian Strauss more than a little concerned.

_She was here..._

It was the Seven, calling to him telepathically.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked out loud. He was in his parlor, alone.

_She was here. She saw Him._

That was not good. He knew better than to ask if they certain it was her; of course they were. "What happened?" he asked instead.

The Seven told him everything. _He touched her. You know what this means. _

He did. It would appear it was starting, and with her for some reason known only to Him.

_All is not yet lost. Watch her closely, Strauss. _

"Yes, yes of course I will my lieges." He agreed.

The connection broke. Now he had much to worry about. House and Clan Tremere were at a very delicate time now, a time that may determine the fate of all Kindred.


	5. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Tyler

"Hello, LA; the night is fresh, and I am too. For those of you new to the city or to this whole radio scene, you're listening to the Deb of Night. We're broadcasting live from the hottest spot in the Lady by the Sea, Asylum. Let's see if we can turn the heat up a notch or two, shall we? Come on down to join the party, or if you're otherwise engaged, stayed tuned and give me a call at..."

The radio droned on as Tyler labored over the books in the office at Confession. This was the one part of his new career that he truly hated, but it was his turn to crunch the numbers and fair was fair. Besides, this was as good a way as any to duck out of sight until Damsel cooled her jets a little. He really should not have let himself get all turned around by that Whoreador Kaila last night; it just happened before he knew what was going on.

"...Hello, caller; tell me, are you coming out to play tonight?"

"There's no way anybody's getting me out of the house tonight, Deb!" An excitable, almost paranoid voice responded. "In fact, I'm putting my life on the line as it is! I'm really sticking my neck out by even calling you this time, but the world has to know about this. Am I the only one that sees what's really going on?"

"Kicking things off tonight we have Gomez on the conspiracy watch, boys!" Deb announced. Her sarcasm was so thick a deaf person would have a hard time missing it. "What have you got for me tonight, Gomez?"

"Deb, this is serious, ok? Laugh if you want, everybody, but this is so huge, so life changing that I don't even know where to begin. Are you ready for this, Deb? Because I'm not lying when I say the whole world as we know it is in immediate peril!"

"That does sound serious." Deb replied. "Don't hold back on me now, Gomez."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Gomez warned. "Ok, just don't say I didn't warn you. Everyone knows that the theory of evolution is only part of the truth of how humanity came into existence, and that several humans are actually descendants from an alien race commonly known as Reptilians. That's no surprise. What nobody else is aware of is that the Reptilians have been among us since the dawn of time, manipulating the course of mankind's existence, and that they are now making major moves to take over the planet outright, starting with a war against the vampires right here in Los Angeles; and humans are already caught right in the middle of the battle lines."

Tyler looked up from the accounting books and stared intently at the radio. Sure, this guy Gomez sounded like a good candidate for a Malkavian recruit; but that didn't change the fact that he was actually pretty close to the truth. In fact, he was a little too close. This was live at Asylum; Tyler wondered if Janette, Marko, or even Therese would have sense enough to shut this shit up right quick.

"Reptiles and vampires, huh; Well, Gomez, you certainly know how to get a party started." Deb responded, patronizing. Her sarcastic dismissal of this nutcase would help keep the public calm, but he would still need to be silenced somehow.

"Just hear me out, Deb!" Gomez pleaded. "The Reptilians have already very nearly completely cornered the Narcotics, Pornography, and Prostitution markets. Who knows how deep they've entrenched themselves in media, law enforcement, and politics? You know that fire downtown last night? The news and the fire department want us to believe it was faulty wiring in an abandoned building. The real story, and everybody knows this, is that building was a squatters den for heroin users and dealers. What most people don't know is that same building was in fact one of many secret headquarters for the Reptilians, and the fire was set by the vampires in an attempt to drive the Reptilians out."

"Ok, Gomez," Deb interrupted, "thanks for the update, but now I'm getting told the locals want to dance, so it's time to play a few songs, run a few ads, and I promise you LA, I'll be right back."

Tyler shut the radio off as some industrial metal tune got cued in. He had heard enough. He had to get down to Asylum and see if that call from this Gomez nut job could be traced and located. His little crackpot conspiracy theory was way too close to accurate to be simple coincidence; he had to find out who leaked to him. This was definitely a matter of Masquerade Maintenance. He stepped out of the office and did a quick scan of the club below: Venus tending the bar. Patrons drinking and revelling and dancing to the same tune that was on the radio (Tyler then remembered that 'Deb of Night was being piped into both the Pit and this place). Jack off to one side, talking with someone who looked suspiciously like the Dark Driver he ran into about ten years ago just before storming the La douche Tower. Damsel was walking in, looking around, and approaching Venus. She was probably looking for him. At least she looked like she meant to stay cool.

Deciding it was time to bite that bullet and get it done with as quickly as possible, Tyler DeFaulte marched down the steps, across the dance floor, and towards the bar; making sure to give a nod of acknowledgement to Jack as he passed. There was something about the Dark Driver that chilled his blood; probably best not to deal with him too often, he figured.

As for Damsel, he had a story he hoped she would buy; it was at least partly true. He approached her with a sheepish grin and what she called his 'baby eyes' on his face.

"Don't you do that, Tye," she warned. "You ain't going to pull that cute shit to get out of this."

"Get out of what?"

Damsel snorted. "What happened to you after you and Fenris took down that snake pit last night Tye?"

Tyler shrugged. "What are you talking about, darling?" he asked. "We came here for a drink. All that action left us both a little spent."

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it" he replied.

"What about that new lick you two ran into?" Damsel challenged, pouting.

"Oh, you mean Kaila?" Tyler replied casually. He noticed Jack was making his way towards them. The dark Driver seemed to have vanished. "Yeah, we saw her. She came on all strong, so I played along so I could find out what she's all about."

"Hey, kids!" Jack bellowed cheerfully. "What's new with you?"

"Evening, Jack," Tyler greeted with what he hoped sounded like casual cool. "I was just telling the Den Mother here about a new girl in town I ran into last night."

"Really" Jack asked with exaggerated interest. Damsel had crossed her arms over her chest and was tapping her foot, still pouting.

"Really" Tyler confirmed. "Her name is Kaila; she's a Toreador and a dancer from the Big Easy. Since she's one of VV's clan and of the same vocation, I pointed her in the direction of Vesuvius. Go ahead and check with VV if you don't believe me."

"That sounds like a plan if you ask me," Jack said, smiling. "Come on Damsel, let's go check his story."

"Sure," Damsel agreed, not taking her eyes off Tyler. "Let's all go, Tye."

"Hold on," Tyler retorted. "Am I the only one who heard that caller on the radio? I get this personal shit is important, but in case you forgot there's this thing we call the Masquerade. Somebody has to go check out this Gomez guy."

Jack glanced quickly from Damsel to Tyler and back again; making an assessment. "Sure thing, kiddo," he said quietly. "Go do what you gotta do. Damsel and I will look into this Kaila chick." He gently clutched Damsel by the arm and led her back out of the club. "Come on, babe; maybe a little distance is the best thing for both of you."

"Yeah" Damsel agreed, allowing Jack to pull her away, "maybe."

Tyler waited about a minute before leaving the club and towards the parking garage to his car; some stupid fried chicken commercial was playing as he left. The streets seemed unusually quiet as he walked; a few people milling about, he noticed Larry hustling some poor sap into buying some costume jewellery, but that was about it. The guard at the gate of the garage let him pass with nothing more than a nod.

He got to car, and cursed audibly. His tires were slashed. He turned around, and was well on his way to grilling the guard about his lack of security, but stopped himself. It occurred to him that it was most likely Damsel's way of venting; and that he was in fact lucky that his tires were the only thing that got slashed. Steeling himself to stay calm, he walked back out of the parking garage to discover a cab at the entrance; as if waiting for him. The passenger window dropped down and the Dark Driver was waiting in the driver's seat.

"Hop in." He said. His voice was rich and warm and dark; almost otherworldly.

Tyler looked around. Seeing no alternative, he complied. As if he already knew where to go, the Driver pulled out.

"Always falling; the Fallen Clan is always falling." The Driver said finally.

"What are talking about?" Tyler asked. When he first met this guy ten years ago, it was clear he was Kindred; though what clan he was from was never made clear. This kind of talk made Tyler think Malkavian.

"Falling from grace, falling in love, falling from your true nature; you're always falling."

"Say what?"

The Driver grinned, somehow without malice.

"In the beginning," he said, "the Brujah Clan were great intellects, thinkers, innovators, and philosophers. You were full of passion, strong values, and ideals. Here is the conundrum of the Brujah Clan: The very thing which makes you strong- your passion and ideals- is what also led to your initial downfall. This may seem hard to believe, but the Brujah were a critical part of the conception and development of the Camarilla."

That was so hard to believe that Tyler almost burst out laughing. "Do you mean it was formed as a means to keep us from rising too high?"

"Not at all" the Driver replied. "In fact, they were among the first to conceive of the Ivory Tower as a means of defence from mortal hunters, and later the Sabbat."

"You're serious" Tyler said not sure if he even wanted to fathom the idea. It had to be some kind of mistake, or this Malkie was trying to pull his leg or something.

"So what happened?" He asked, opting to play along just in case. "What happened to us?"

"You fell." The Driver answered plainly. "One of yours forgot that the fool is led by the heart, and the wise always leads the heart. This led to a battle which in turn led to the fall of the Brujah Clan. Since then, most of your Clan have lost their way. There are some rare exceptions, however. Those rarities have managed to keep the Brujah as a Clan, but still they fall; fall from grace, fall away from destiny, and fall in love..." The Driver tapered off of his rap.

Tyler nodded slowly, thinking he had an idea where this was going. "So what's your point?" he asked, just to make sure.

"You must choose, and soon." The Driver answered. "You can do what your heart desires, or you can lead your heart into what you know is right."

Speechless, Tyler just sat there in the back of the cab for the rest of the trip until finally it stopped in front of Asylum.

Fenris

Fenris had to admit it. She was actually starting to like Damsel. Sure, she was still a cranky bitch from hell, but in a good sort of way. Up in the rafters of the Nocturne theatre, she got to thinking about last night; the way Tyler ran off with that new chick like Damsel didn't even exist. Though she and Damsel weren't exactly buddies, they were starting to get along, and no gal deserved to be treated like that. Or maybe Fenris wanted to hurt Tyler for the way he was acting; she wasn't sure. Whatever the case, when Damsel caught wind of Tyler and his little fling, she nearly lost it.

"_I'm going to kick his ass!" _She shouted. "_I'm going to make him eat his little do-rag, let him vomit it back up, and stuff it down his throat again. Then I'm going to find this little bitch of his and turn her into a fucking pretzel!" _Then she stormed off, growling and cursing in the most colorful way Fenris had ever heard in her entire life.

Now, Fenris found herself on the rafters of the Nocturne – where her unlife really began – laughing lightly as she pictured Tyler beaten to a bloody pulp, puking on his own vomit encrusted headband; and that total slut bomb Kaila twisted around herself and stuffed into a bag Toasty Golds. Right after Damsel told her about the set up Skelter arranged, she announced she was going to have a little talk with Tyler. Fenris almost wished she could go watch that instead.

Dawn below, Nines stood center stage, arms crossed over his muscular chest. Despite his calm exterior, Fenris could tell he was ready for a fight; she could smell it on him. She caught the unmistakable scent of peppermint a fraction of a second before Janette writhed onto the stage and towards Nines. She was wearing a business suit; albeit all undone as if she just walked out of some copy room or supply closet after an office quickie. She and Nines exchanged a few words. Fenris couldn't make out what was actually said, but since Nines nodded and Janette left as quickly as she showed up she figured all was well. Once Janette was gone, Nines pulled a CB off his belt and spoke into it.

"Are you in place, Fenris?" he asked into it, his voice loud and clear in the CB she had with her. She clutched it and called back that she was.

"Good" he said. "Janette just told me that Skelter and his guys are on their way, and apparently all the clues needed to lure the Assamite here are in place, so this is it. Apparently Skelter wanted Therese in on this too. I don't how she is in a fight, but I guess we can use all the help we can get."

"Great" Fenris replied, making only a haphazard attempt at concealing her sarcasm. "Let's just hope she doesn't get in the way."

"I hear you, kid." Nines agreed. "Anyway, you know your part, here. When you smell this guy coming, you give me the signal we agreed on. From this point on, be on your toes."

"Copy that" Fenris said. She always wanted to say that; it was one thing to take off her bucket list.

Ten minutes passed; nobody showed up yet. Janette's peppermint scent still lingered somehow, but then again so did Nines' Oklahoma field smell mixed with that universal brawler odor. There were actually a few scents that seemed to linger here; though it was a little difficult to tell if maybe they were in her head. Her first night started here; maybe it was some kind of traumatic memory thing playing with her senses. Therese was there that night, and she and Janette smell identical. She remembered Jack's cigar, LaCroix's cloying French-pimp cologne, Damsel's vinegar, and that sickly sweet honey stink...

... He was here. The Assamite was in the building, and close by, too; obfuscated, no doubt, but he was here. Frantic that it was too early, Fenris grabbed the CB to warn Nines. Her lips moved to give the signal, but no sound came out. The other one had the same trick, she remembered. Unless she missed her guess that had to mean he was practically on top of her. Judging from the scent, he was just about right behind her in fact.

Popping her claws, Fenris dropped the CB and whipped around with a slashing motion only to catch air as a blade pierced cleanly through her belly button. Shocked, she saw a face materialize from nothing; it was the face of Skelter, his eyes all crazed with blood lust. It was the face of Skelter, but it wasn't him; the smell was all wrong. The crazed pretender smiled maliciously as he thrust the blade upwards quickly towards her sternum and in a blur removed it to slash her throat. AS she fell bleeding, Fenris had just enough time to realize that the Assamite must have gotten the drop on Skelter, and took on his identity to turn the trap around them all before she blacked out.

Marko

About an hour ago, Janette made his phone ring and invited him over for a little diversion on Therese's bed. After they were done, she instructed him to out into the waiting room and wait five minutes before knocking. Marko knew why. Janette wanted to make sure everything was in place once she gave _the body_ back to Therese. He knew that Janette remembered their duality; but he wasn't sure if she knew that he knew, so he played along.

He went outside. He waited five minutes. He knocked and let Therese grant him access. He stepped into the office to find her standing and waiting, scrutinizing a Rolex watch on her wrist. The bed behind her was made so neat a nickel would probably bounce off the ceiling if you dropped one. Therese indicated she appreciated his new found sense of manners, to which he replied it was the best thing for the soon to be new Prince of the City. Therese beamed gleefully; Marko found it amusing that he finally got her to crack a smile. She explained how Skelter made arrangements to eliminate the Assamite problem, and the Dirty Ducklings' role in that matter. She held up a thumb drive, telling him that Janette acquired all the proof she needed. She could only imagine what Janette did to acquire it from Bertram, she said, but she didn't want to. She laid out her plan to ensure she was the last Baron standing, and how she planned to use that, the Assamite, and Cameron's treachery to her advantage.

""I've already arranged for Janette to set things up in advance," Therese told him. "I need you to stay and watch things here. That radio show is bound to make it a handful and a half, and Karl will need all the help he can get."

Marko told her he'd be happy to be the rubber ball of the Asylum for her.

Now, he was here, bouncing. The Asylum was packed near to capacity, and an apparently very angry man on the speakers was telling him he should kill his T.V. That made no sense at all. Why would he do that? Just because the television kept talking to him...just because the television was onto him...just because the television kept on breaking the Masquerade...just because the television kept telling him very bad jokes...

...the angry man was right. He should kill his T.V.

"Alright, LA, I hope you're ready for a hot night tonight with Deb of Night in the hot spot of the Lady by the Sea, because that's where we are live tonight; the Asylum. The place is packed, but that's okay; you can join the party at the Pit in Hollywood, or at Confession downtown, or if you're shut in feel free to call in and share your love at..."

Marko managed to tune Deb out of his mind just enough to take note of a large black man at the front entrance, trying to haggle his way in without paying cover. He quickly recognized the patron as Tidy Bear and waved him in. He could read the Brujah's lips mouth the words 'there, see?' and 'thank you' as the girl at the desk let him pass. Deb was hanging up on some particularly lame caller as Marko weaved his way through the crowd towards Tyler.

"Next caller, tell us what's on your mind!" Deb invited.

"Deb, my baby girl!" a strangely familiar voice called back. "All night long I was praying to God above to hear from a prime time beauty, and wouldn't you know my prayers got answered! Allow me to introduce myself; I'm the owner and proprietor of Larry's Truck of Mac, and the one the ladies all call 'Oh, Gawd!' but you can call me Fat Larry with an F-A-T 'cause there's more of me to love."

"Well, Larry" Deb chuckled, "that's certainly an introduction for the books. What's on your mind?"

"Now that's a good question, baby-girl," Larry replied. "Here's the deal; I just wanted to make sure all you lovely ladies knew I was shutting down the shop early tonight and coming on out that way right now. You dig?"

"Well, you can consider the ladies all warned, Larry," Deb shot back as she disconnected the call and announced it was time for more songs.

By the time Marko finally got to Tyler, he noticed Tabby-Cat slink in past the cover desk with only giving it a glance. Even if he wanted to challenge her entrance –he didn't- Tyler grabbed him before he could even begin to move towards her.

"I gotta talk to Deb for a second!" Tyler shouted over the next song being played; a song that was a request from someone at the Pit by a band called Ebola Cereal. The song was terrible, but in a strange way that is what made it good.

"So give her a call!" Marko shouted back. "Her number is..."

"No, I mean in person!" Tyler interrupted. "It has to do with one of her earlier callers. I need to find that guy."

Marko looked up at the stage, looked at Tyler, and looked back at the stage where Deb sat like some kind of divine warden for a night. He pointed at her with a waving gesture, wishing Tidy Bear luck getting to her.

"Maybe I can help with that." Tabby inserted herself into the conversation. Her voice was clear, but she wasn't shouting.

_Something different in her..._

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

Tyler guffawed. "Don't get me wrong, little girl," he said, "I'm glad to see you're finally starting to come out of your shell, but I don't think a tiny thing like you..."

"Trust me." She insisted; her eyes gone dark and her voice taking on a watery quality. Without another word she strode into the crowd, which parted away from her as if by instinct. It was like watching a sea of people make a clear path straight to the stage. Raising an eyebrow, Tyler shrugged and followed her. Out of curiosity, Marko followed him. He thought maybe this was more Tremere magic, or maybe the snakes or Strauss did something to her.

_Something else..._

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

_Nothing good can come of this..._

It might have just been the lighting, but for just the briefest of moments Marko thought he saw black vein-like quality flash over Tabby-Cat's skin as she climbed up on the stage, Tidy-Bear close behind. A couple of Deb's personal bodyguards stepped up to block their path; presuming he had followed them to intervene. Deb glanced over in their direction and waved her thugs off with one hand and inviting the three of them towards her with the other.

Up close, there was no need to use Auspex to determine that Deb was Kindred. Given the fact that LA was an Anarch Free State both before and after LaCroix's comparatively brief reign, it was no surprise that this was not known to him before just now. Perhaps she did radio due to her apparently low humanity.

"What do we have here?" she asked. "I see before me three of the Super Seven pillars of our community! Tell me; to what do I owe the pleasure of this up close and personal visit?" Her pleasure almost seemed genuine. Maybe it was as genuine as she could manage; for all Marko knew. Neither she nor anyone else seemed to notice anything amiss about Tabby-Cat.

"This is a business call," Tyler answered.

Deb sighed, pouted playfully. "What business do we have?"

"The Masquerade," Tyler replied; continuing before Deb could ask. "One of your callers is causing a breach that needs to be sealed."

"You mean Gomez." Deb answered back flippantly. "Don't worry about him; nobody believes a word he says. I've made sure of that."

"_I _have to sure." Tyler countered just as one song washed into another.

"He's right." Tabetha agreed; her voice still watery, though nobody else seemed to notice. Still, Deb did give a look. In that look, Marko saw Deb's smile falter ever so slightly, ever so briefly before she shrugged indifferently.

"Suit yourself." She conceded. "So what is it you think I can do for you tonight?"

"Do you have a way to peg down the location of the calls you receive?" Tyler asked.

Rolling her distinctly indigo eyes, Deb turned her revolving chair and pushed away lightly with her legs; the wheeled chair glided to the other end of her desk where a lap top waited. She punched a few keys and scrolled the screen until she found the number Gomez called from. She clicked it and almost instantly an address came up. Tyler leaned forward and read it.

"Got it." He said to her. "Thank you." He turned to leave, paused, and traded his look from Tabetha, to Marko, and back to Tabetha. "I might need a hand with this," he said to Tabby-Cat. "You want in on this?"

"Sure" Tabby-Cat replied, the water gone from her voice, "why not?"

Tyler nodded once to her response. He was clearly satisfied with it, and apparently still oblivious to whatever was going on with her. The two of them made easy work of navigating through the crowd; Tabetha in the lead again, the sea of people parting like she was Moses again.

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

"I know!" he shouted. "Shut up!" He quickly looked around to see if anybody heard him. The only one who might have was Deb, and she didn't seem too interested.

Resuming his rubber ball duties as the party show took a commercial break; Marko pondered a couple of things: Why didn't anybody else seem to either notice or care about the changes in Tabetha? Should he tell Therese or Janette about them? Did the Wizard King know about them, and if so, what did they mean? Maybe he should ask Strauss about it first, before saying anything to anyone else.

But that would have to wait until after the show party. And until after he killed his T.V.

Ajax

Imalia had taken off back to Hollywood. For his own part, Ajax stayed behind to surreptitiously observe things here in Downtown. The Last Round was dead. It seemed the only lively place in the Hub was Confession, where that show of senseless prattling was being broadcast live from the Asylum. So the Nosferatu went there. And he watched. And he listened; all unseen, of course. Jack was hanging briefly with a most unsettling looking guy. Some freak on the radio was basically blowing the Masquerade to shit, and the hostess of the show was blowing him off like he a crackpot. Tyler was rushing down a set of stairs like his ass was on fire. Damsel was waiting for him at the bar, looking pissed off as always.

They talked, not noticing Ajax was right there. First it was about some broad that Tyler was maybe getting some action on the side from, and then Jack joined the chin wag. The conversation changed to about the Masquerade blowing freak. Jack took Damsel to find the hussy; some Whoreador dancer that Tyler said should be at Vesuvius by now, and Tyler went off to track down and silence the freak. Deciding that the hussy had much more potential for something juicy, he let Tyler go and was about to take to the sewers when his phone rang.

He looked at the call display. It was Imalia. He picked up.

"Whatever you're doing, drop it and get back to the Warrens right now." She said before he could say anything. "Mitnick says he's got something we all have to see."

"What is it?"

"He wouldn't say," Imalia replied. "All he would say is that this is some serious code red stuff, and we all gotta see it to believe it. Bertram's already here. He wants to wait for you and Barabbas, so hurry up!"

"Okay, okay!" he said quickly, hoping to calm her down. "I was headed there anyway." That was true enough; the bulk of the Warrens were under Hollywood. "I'll be there soon." He hung up, opened the manhole at his feet, and dropped down into the sewer.

That was when the sewers went black. Not just dark; but pitch black. Even with his eyes as accustomed to the dark as they were, Ajax couldn't see a thing. Then it got cold. Not so much in a physical sense; being undead made physical temperature almost irrelevant. This was different; this was a kind of cold that Ajax wanted to associate with some kind of second death. With the cold and the dark, the Nosferatu suddenly felt very exposed.

"I can see you, Hidden one." A voice in the dark called to him. "I can always see you and all of your Clan."

"Who are you?" Ajax asked without thinking about what he was saying. It immediately struck him as a stupid question. He knew who this was; or rather _the Blood _knew. It was just like Skelter once told him a decade ago.

"I think you know." The Voice said calmly, as if he genuinely didn't mind being asked. "Still, you'd be surprised how refreshing it is to find one who actually asks. It's almost like having a real conversation."

"Yeah, well, we're friends down here, right?" Ajax asked smartly, hoping to cover the fact that if his bowels still moved he'd have trousers full of fudge by now. "Friends talk. So let's talk. What's going on, friend?"

"All things come to an end." The Voice replied with an eerie serenity. "The end of a thing is more important than its beginning, for the end of a thing is the beginning of a new thing."

"You know what?" Ajax said, still trying for the smart-ass approach, "that is an interesting interpretation of Ecclesiastes, but I'm afraid theology isn't really my thing."

It seemed like the Voice in the dark chuckled mildly. "I can see you hidden one; your feint of foolishness does not deceive me. Even as we speak, your community crumbles and the foundation for a tower is already underway."

Ajax knew this was true. The Barons were taking a beating, and at least two licks were jockeying to take Praxis in Camarilla resurgence. Bertram seemed to think maybe this was for the best; maybe he was right. The only problem was one of those candidates was a schizoid basket case; who was a megalomaniac control freak with some serious OCD issues half the time and an out of control nymphomaniac with borderline psychosis the other half of the time; the other candidate was, well, apart from being a dick, he was in bed with the Setites. Sure, he was being coerced into that relationship, as was his entire family, but who wanted a Prince who was a puppet of the Serpents?

"You see your dilemma." The Voice more stated than asked. "Whose foundation will you support? Choose wisely, hidden one, and remember this; much depends on whether the Rose thrives or withers."

And then the darkness was gone, leaving Ajax scratching his head. What did the Toreador have to do with this mess? They've not really done anything useful since Isaac got fried. The only thing Ajax could think of was whatever Xavier was doing out in San Fran. Whatever his encounter with the Voice was supposed to mean, it would have to wait. Ajax began his trudge through the slop towards Hollywood and the Warrens. Along the way, it vaguely occurred to him that Tyler's alleged new gal pal was apparently a Toreador...

He got to the tomb in the Hollywood cemetery where the hidden access to the Warren was. Once he was sure nobody was near, he climbed through, sealing the entrance behind him, and strode over to Mitnick's quarters. Mitnick's digs looked more like a makeshift computer lab in a dystopia movie with a cot than it did any kind of haven; but then that was Mitnick for you. Barabbas was just showing up, too. In the quarters; Mitnick, Imalia, and Bertram were waiting.

"There you are!" Mitnick snorted, waving them in. "Pull up a stump, folks. This shit is gonna blow your fucking minds!"

"Yarbles to that, you grahzny bastard" Barabbas said, sauntering into the chamber of many screens. "Let us viddy what you have first my brother." He'd been watching old movies again, Ajax observed as he walked in and took a seat.

Mitnick flipped a switch which shut down the already dim lights, punched a few keys which shut off all of his screens except for the largest one which was mounted on the wall opposite where the chairs were arranged. At the moment, that screen was held with a screen saver of binary code that perpetually fell in a pattern that resembled dripping blood.

"It's like going to the sinny!" Barabbas commented.

"Shut up!" Imalia shouted.

"That's enough! All of you!" Bertram bellowed. Everyone fell silent. Bertram gestured to Mitnick. "Please continue."

Mitnick thanked Bertram, looked at Ajax. "You remember when I got you to place those cameras in the Nocturne, newbie? Well, you gotta check out the show your work made possible. Brace yourselves." Mitnick punched yet another set of keys and stepped back as the screen came alive...

...to an aerial view of the stage at the Nocturne Theatre in the Downtown Hub; while all of the seven 'newbies' as Mitnick affectionately called them would recognize the place as the place where Lacroix once demonstrated his law in a bloodbath which destroyed all their sires and would have destroyed each of them too if not for Nine's intervention, Ajax knew this particular view all too well. It was from one of the cameras he placed there for Mitnick years ago. In this particular shot, Nines Rodriguez was standing centre stage, his arms crossed over his chest. While he appeared calm, there was something in his stance that suggested he was ready to fight; like he was waiting for someone he intended to beat to death. His head to one of the wings of the stage as Janette, decked out in a dishevelled suit she probably borrowed from Therese to play a game of office quickie in came skipping out to greet him. The two of them exchanged a few words, and Nines nodded as if all was well enough before Janette skipped back off stage. Without audio there was no way to know what was said.

"What the hell is this?" Imalia piped in. "What happened to the audio?"

"Last month they did some renovations on the soundproofing." Mitnick replied. "We got lucky they didn't find the cameras too. I hadn't got around to upgrading the system yet; I was doing a check from here when all this was happening."

On the screen, Nines was on a CB, looking up into the rafters somewhere. It was a short conversation, whomever it was with.

"Do we know who was there with him?" Bertram asked.

"Whoever it was found the one blind spot our angles had up there. I had it set up that way so we could get in undetected even if some smart ass did manage to hack my system." Mitnick answered.

There was nothing to talk about for a short time, then some new guy showed up; Ajax thought he looked a little bit like a young Chuck Norris. When Nines saw Chuck, he seemed pleased. Nobody watching this said anything; they didn't need to. None of them had seen this guy Chuck before, and they all saw the shimmer around him. Being as familiar with it as they were, they all knew that shimmer was what showed up on cameras when obfuscate was in use. It didn't take a genius to figure out that whoever he was; Chuck was obfuscating to look like someone Nines knew.

Once he was close enough, Chuck kicked Nines in the chops like...well, like Chuck Norris. Then everything was a blur of motion; like someone hit the super-high speed button on the controller. They all knew what this about, too. That is what Celerity looked like. At the end of the blur, Chuck was down, though Nines looked like hell. Standing over Chuck, Nines drew his trusty 9 mm and trained it at Chuck's head. Then Chuck rolled aside and tossed a wooden dart at Nines, striking him square in the heart. Nines dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"Bloody cal" Barabbas shouted. "I can hardly wrap my rassoodock around what my glazzies are seeing!"

"Just wait!" Mitnick said quickly. "There's more."

Badly wounded, Chuck regained his feet, looked around, and then bent over Nines.

"What's he doing now?" Ajax asked, even though he had a feeling he knew.

"He's setting up to do some kind Assamite ritual, fledgling," Bertram explained. "Legend has it the Assamites get paid in the blood of their targets, which they take home for a ritualized form of diablerie."

"Hold on!" Mitnick said, now getting impatient. "It isn't over yet!"

Without warning, Chuck the Assamite exploded into flame, and then crumbled into ashes beside Nines. Once the flames were completely out, Therese stepped out of the shadows; dressed in a perfectly kept custom fitted power suit and sporting a large hunting rifle. She approached Nines where he was still prone on the floor – presumably torpid – and scanned the theatre. She paused briefly, gazing at one particular spot for a few seconds. Finally she turned her gaze to Nines, took a step back, aimed her rifle at him and pulled the trigger. Right before their eyes, Nines Rodriguez disintegrated into ashes. She then started to exit the stage, flipping out her phone to send a text, looking all business as usual.

"That psycho BITCH!" Imalia screamed, standing up. "I can't believe this!"

"Sit down, Imalia." Bertram ordered. When she sat back down, Bertram continued. "I know this looks bad. Hell I know it _is _bad. But it's not as bad as it looks. You see, we add this to the dirt we have on Therese already, and we have all the leverage we could ever need on her. For that matter, we have enough on that fledgling Ventrue to keep him right where we want him, too. Isn't that right, fledgling?"

Ajax nodded. It was true.

"My point is," Bertram continued, "whoever wins between the two of them, we Nosferatu stand only to gain."

"Do you really think that lunatic will give a shit what we have on her?" Imalia challenged. "What's to stop her from deciding we're a liability?"

"I don't _think _she'll care, I _know _she will." Bertram replied. "Image is everything to Therese, and if we suddenly disappear, everything comes out, and her image is ruined. Besides, Janette won't let her, and Janette has more stroke with Therese than any of you know. Tell them, fledgling."

Ajax fidgeted. He was having doubts about backing a schizoid Malkie for Praxis; leverage or no leverage. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Therese and Janette are the same person." He said finally.

"The thing is, Therese doesn't seem to know that, and Janette uses that fact to keep Therese in check. I guarantee we're very safe from Therese Vooreman." Bertram concluded the revelation. He let that sink in to everybody's mind for a moment, and then continued. "Now, here's what we're going to do..."

Xavier

Once he was sure that Prince Ezekiel's intelligence was accurate and that the point at which he came ashore on the island was not being guarded too closely, Xavier did a quick inventory of the gear he brought along with to Alcatraz. Among the items, there were some of the usual things; a collection of stakes, a sidearm and as many rounds as he could carry, a hunting knife, and of course a bush hook very much like the one he used ten years ago to finish off Andrei, the leader of the LA Sabbat. He hefted that and couldn't help but smile grimly; as little as he liked to admit it, it felt good to be wielding the weapon.

One other thing he selected; a crude bronze cross shape with a serpent wrapped around it. It was on a chain that Xavier placed around his neck. The talisman itself reminded Xavier of the symbol you often see at a doctor's office. Ezekiel told him it was enchanted with a Thaughmetergical ritual intended to protect the bearer with increased resistance to attacks with Serpentis, the signature Discipline of the Setites. Given who and what he was going up against, it was obvious to him that such an item would be helpful. He also had with him a map of the island and the now vacated prison which sat upon the rock; not that he imagined it would do him much good. The snakes, Xavier surmised, were more likely keeping a hidden temple; maybe something resembling a pyramid underneath the prison. In all likelihood, the prison was just the tip of the evil that lurked beneath.

Once he was sure the small motorboat was secure, he located a drainpipe that he would have to crawl through in order to gain access without being detected. For a brief second he considered eschewing all subterfuge and trying for a direct assault; the idea of trying to just fight his way through seemed a lot more appealing than crawling through the drains like some Nosferatu. Of course, the chances of surviving such an assault single handed were basically slim and none; and slim was out on a lunch break. He didn't like it one little bit, but into the drain he climbed; the bush hook in hand. Just when it occurred to him that drainpipe this size made no sense whatsoever for a supposedly inescapable prison, even one as outdated as Alcatraz, the drain stopped short and into a small chamber. _Maybe it was meant as some kind of red herring back in the day. Or maybe this was built _after _the prison was shut down..._

Xavier felt around on the wall in front of him on the possibility this might be some kind of secret passage to the temple itself. Doing so, he wondered why the Setites would leave a secret passage unguarded. He came up with three possibilities: It was unguarded because it was a secret, and to have guards posted would only draw attention to it; or it was guarded incognito; or to use it one required a certain pass of some kind in order to avoid setting an alarm off. He supposed it could be a combination of all three. The drain he was just in was completely dry, as was the chamber he found himself in now. His Auspex was not picking up and sort of triggering mechanism for an alarm, and the walls of the chamber he was in were too thick for his levels of Auspex to penetrate. There was, however, one brick in the chamber walls that seemed to jump out at him; until he finally realized why. It was the one brick that did not have any mortar around it. He reached up and pushed inwards at it...

...and nothing happened. He could feel that it moved; it was certainly loose. He pushed one side of it. Nothing happened. He tried to other side. Nothing happened. He tried pulling it out, still nothing happened. The thought crossed his mind that he may have just set off an alarm somewhere in the temple, and decided if that was the case then it would be useless to worry about it now; the damage was done. He tried tipping the top of the loose brick inwards. Then something happened; the whole wall, except for the loose brick, retreated away from him to reveal a staircase going down into the darkness. The steps were cobblestone, and the passage was narrow. Bush hook at the ready, Xavier began to descend down the steps. As dark as it was, he could actually see just fine with his Auspex activated. It could be argued, in fact, that his Auspex saved his life as it made it possible for him to spot the large snake that dropped from the ceiling onto a landing about twenty steps down from him. Knowing it was there made for easy work when it came to dispensing of it; a simple strike with the bush hook before the snake even had a chance to strike at all rendered it to dust.

Aside from the one snake, the trek down the stairs was uneventful; Xavier wondered how these serpents could be so careless. Were they that confident? It was possible. What was more likely, he was willing to wager, was that this was some kind of set up; intended to make _him _overconfident so he would drop his guard. Finally the stairs came to an end, and he was standing in the middle of a circular room with three passages; one directly in front of him, and one to each side. The stairs behind him made for a fourth option. The walls had hieroglyphics all over them. He supposed they might actually tell him something. Unfortunately ancient text translation was not one his strongest skills. _So this is a maze, then. _He finally picked the passage to his right; it seemed as good a guess as any. This passage was wider than the stairs. It was also a short passage; an exit was only a few yards away, with a guard standing with his back to him. Xavier crept up behind, and impaled him with the hook; lifting the guard overhead and then dropping him unceremoniously onto the floor. Another quick slash across the midsection followed by a backhanded scrape to the face and the guard was ash. Now he found himself in another room; this one with a high ceiling, and a choice to go forward or go left. Going left felt wrong; He pressed ahead. This led to a door. His Auspex revealed two figures waiting in ambush on the other side. Each held a bladed weapon; possibly katanas, though they were more likely cutlasses.

Fixing his grip on the bush hook to handle it like a staff, Xavier activated the full extent of his Celerity and charged the door, leaping through it, using his weight and momentum to smash it into splinters. The second he was through, he spun in mid air to land facing his would be ambushers; they were already advancing on him, weapons raised. Still using celerity, he tripped the first one with the hook, and blocked the others' attack with the handle. By the time the first one was tripped up, Xavier swung the hook to gut the second attacker, who deftly back stepped in time to avoid being eviscerated. Carrying through with the momentum he had gained, he spun and brought his hook down deep into the shoulder of the first attacker before he could gain his feet. At the same time, he ducked to avoid being decapitated by the second attacker. Even as the cutlass swished over his head, Xavier pulled out his hunting knife and thrust it into his quarry's side; just below the ribcage. As the second attacker grunted in a mix of pain and shock, he pulled the bush hook out of the first roughly; quite certain he took some bone out with it. The first attacker howled, and Xavier whirled the hook at the second attacker's throat, nearly tearing his head off. The strain of the speed he was moving snapped the handle of the hook. To the human eye, the balk Xavier made as he dropped the hook while the second attacker crumbled in front of him would be beyond perception.

He wasn't fighting humans. The Setite at his feet caught the misstep and lashed out with his tongue, striking Xavier's ankle. Yelping, Xavier stumbled, losing his celerity. The Setite picked up his cutlass and renewed his attack. Xavier rolled away from it and clutched the other cutlass. Regaining his own feet, he swung wild, a sloppy counter which was easily blocked. Then the Setite spit on him, and Xavier wailed in pain as what burned like acid sprayed on his left cheek. As he crouched, instinctively trying to scrape the acid off, the Setite chuckled as he moved in for what he thought would be the kill. Xavier swung wildly again; this time the Setite had to jump back to dodge. With his free hand, Xavier drew his sidearm; a lousy .38, but better than nothing. He fired and his aim proved true; hitting the Setite square between the eyes. The shock of getting hit was just enough to slow the Setite down enough to allow Xavier to chop his head clean off with the cutlass he still held.

Both attackers now destroyed, Xavier paused to compose himself. He enjoyed that way too much; VV wouldn't be pleased to know that after all the work she put in to restore his humanity following the ordeal with Andrei. Hoping she would understand the situation, he examined the room he was in now. There were two doors; one left and one right. Avoiding left seemed to be working for him so far; the more guards he ran into probably meant he was getting to something important. His Auspex showed nothing behind either door, so he went right. This opened to another room; this one with a ladder in the exact center; going both up and down. Looking up, he saw nothing. Looking down, there was nothing. He chose to go down. As he descended, the talisman he grabbed from Ezekiel started to do its work; the stinging in his ankle faded, and the burning on his face ebbed to a minor itch, and that quickly faded to nothing.

Touching the floor beneath, he turned around to find a cold, dead set of finger wrap around his neck; he knew that grip. The Sherriff of San Francisco emerged from thin air and tightened her grip. In his surprise, Xavier dropped the cutlass as the Sherriff lifted him over her head, grimacing at him with a toothy snarl.

"You didn't really think you could beat me that easily, did you?" she rasped, tossing across the room and into a wall before giving him a chance to reply. Xavier scrambled to his feet and drew the .38, only to find it getting crushed into a pulpy mess in his hand, several of the bones in his cracking along with it. The extent of the pain he felt was unlike anything he experienced before; it was so intense his vocal chords failed him when he tried to shout some it out. He barely ducked in time to avoid her fist as it slammed into the brick wall behind him; leaving a hole.

In an effort to get away from the wall, Xavier side stepped and darted forward, forgetting that the Nosferatu still had his gun hand firmly in her grip. She yanked back hard; popping something out of place. Altering her grip from his hand to his wrist, she swung him around her and back into the wall; Xavier was sure she actually embedded him into the wall this time. Before he could do anything, she was directly behind him, pressing him deeper into the wall.

"Wait!" he shouted desperately. "Do you even know why I'm here?"

"You're here to ruin everything!" she shouted back, still pressing.

"That's not true!" He replied. "I'm here to help set things right." He activated his presence, and could feel her ease up a little. "I'm here to set you free."

She eased up a little more. "That's a bunch of Anarch bullshit," she protested, but Xavier could hear the faintest hint of doubt in her voice.

"No, it isn't." Xavier said as mildly as he could. "You can't tell me you like being a Setite puppet. I know that they have your heart somewhere in this building. I can get it back for you; and the Seneschal's. That's why I'm here." Calling her a puppet was a risk; but it was a gamble he was willing to try. It paid off. She let him go. He fell to the floor, in a whole new level of pain.

"If I'm going to trust you, Toreador, I need you to trust me."

Xavier said nothing; he just nodded his agreement.

"Good." She said, as close to pleasantly as Xavier imagined she could manage. "Go limp." She instructed as she bent to hoist him over one of her bony, nearly nonexistent shoulders like he was a throw pillow.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up." She advised. "Make like you're out. I'm taking you to the heart place. They will need to believe I'm bringing you in as a recruit."

Xavier understood; it was a good plan for one made on the fly. He went limp and closed his eyes, taking yet another calculated risk. She walked on with authority, turning here and there, down a small flight of stairs, through a door, another flight of stairs, and elevator down a long hallway with a slight downward slope, and through a pair of doors into what smelled a little like an operating room. It was here that she slammed him onto a slab.

"I'll be back," she promised. "If you can move fast enough to find what you're looking for and can get out of here, so much the better. I'll give you as much time as I can."

Xavier waited for her to shut the door behind her before sitting up and looking around. The room he was in was dimly lit; the thing he noticed was that it was much larger than he initially thought it would be. It certainly smelled like an operating room, but there was also a lingering incense odor to it; myrrh, he thought. This was more than an operating room, he realized; it was also some kind of sanctuary, a place where rituals were held, and the slab he was on was more like an altar than an operating table.

He scanned the room with his Auspex; almost frantic to find what he came for. _Calm down. _He told himself. _Be quick, but don't panic. Rushing this and making a mistake will not help anything or anyone, especially not you. _He searched again; quickly and carefully. Then he saw that one of the walls was lined with shelves, and on those shelves were jars of clay. Inside those jars, were hearts; he could see their auras. For a moment, he thought about grabbing as many as he could carry; he had a hunch that some of them might be Setite hearts. _What could be better than turning their game against them?_

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Getting into that kind of coercion was their way, not his. He couldn't degenerate to that kind of low. If he did that, then in some perverse way, the Setites would win anyway. _Besides, _he reasoned, _VV would never approve. _Setting aside any and all further thoughts on VV and how much she had colored his motives, he scanned the hearts for an aura that matched that of the Sherriff which he picked up during their scuffle. Finding that, he grabbed the jar and took it off the shelf. Next, he scanned for anything that he thought might be the Seneschal. Having not seen his aura during their brief meeting, this was all but impossible. He really saw no choice but to use the Spirit touch and hope he could identify it that way. The idea of touching the heart and therefore the pierce into the emotional state of a Malkavian was not Xavier's idea of fun night out, but he supposed he had to do what he had to do.

Reluctantly, he took a jar down, selecting one with a confused aura that he thought would have to a Malkavian. Cradling the jar in his arms, he removed the top and reached down and touched the heart inside.

_Blackness, nothingness, a void of nothing, and then it all changed and he was seeing not from his own head or even from the angle that he sensed he was facing. No, this was the exact opposite angle; he facing up but looking down. Where is MOM? He's looking down upon an altar in a dark room, and he sees himself as others must see him; such a gangly creature he is! His chest is open, and a pair of hands is doing an operation... MOM, Where are you? _

Xavier pulled his hand away. He had seen enough. This was the Seneschal. It only now occurred to him how lucky he was to find it so quickly. The thought of viewing an event like having your heart pulled out over and over again would likely have undone all the progress he made after his ordeal with Andrei. Though she couldn't know what was going to happen, perhaps it was this kind of thing that Velvet was so reluctant to let him come out here about. It was clear they did some very bad things to her, and she would then know how much damage they could do. He put the lid back on the jar and started towards the door when he saw the knob start to turn.

In a flash, Xavier tucked the jars under the altar and set himself back up on it, holding the hunting knife behind his back. The door opened, and two people walked in.

"This is the new subject you found in our temple." A voice hissed; an old man, by the sound of it.

"It is," the Sherriff confirmed. "From Los Angeles; I found him quite deep inside. Impressive for a Toreador, don't you think?"

"Yes," the Setite agreed. "This one may be useful..." he paused, leaning over him. The old Setite tapped on the talisman. "What is this?"

Activating Celerity, Xavier shot up, stabbing the old Setite repeatedly with the hunting knife until he was ash. By Xavier's count, it was about ten or twelve. He had no idea he could move _that _fast. His Celerity deactivated, Xavier swung his feet off the altar and onto the floor. The Sherriff stood at the door, looking a little awestruck.

"I keep forgetting just how quick you _artistes _can be." She commented.

"Then we're even," Xavier shot back, hunkering down to pull the jars out from under the altar. "I keep forgetting just how strong you Nos can be."

The Sherriff regarded the jars. "Are those what you came for?"

"Yes, they are." He replied, offering the jar with her heart in it to her. "I believe this is yours." He said. "Many times I have been accused of stealing a ladies' heart; now it can be said I have given one back hers."

"What's this all about?" she looked at him dubiously.

"The way I see it," Xavier explained, "you helped me get it; you earned this. Now you won't owe your Prince a thing for the retrieval of your heart. You want to serve him, fine; do so on your terms, not his."

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, cautiously taking the jar.

Xavier smiled. "Anarch bullshit," he answered.

Xavier wasn't sure if she could smile, but it looked like she was trying.

"Follow me," she said. "I can lead you safely out and get you back to Ezekiel."

Tabetha

_This is awesome! _

Tabetha Toussaint gently descended and touched down in the backyard of the address that Deb gave to Tyler; apparently Gomez lived in a run-down single level house in a low income neighborhood of Santa Monica. She had been levitating for some time now; it was extremely helpful for meditation purposes. Tonight was the first night she tried for all-out flight; first from the Chantry to Asylum, then from Asylum to here. The first attempt was successful, if awkward, but this second attempt could only be described as awesome.

_Not even gravity can hold me! _

When she woke this evening, she learned of the show at Therese's nightclub. While she didn't care much for Deb of Night, she did respect and even like Therese. Clearly she was the more useful of the twins, certainly more functional, and at least she was as consistent as a Malkavian could get, in Tabetha's estimation. It seemed appropriate to go, in order to show support for Therese, who was often unappreciated. She asked Master Strauss if she could go; much to her surprise, Max agreed. It would be good to get out and start building a sphere of influence amongst out kind, he said. Tabetha quickly realized he meant she ought to go and be a face for the Clan and the Camarilla. _He's so predictable..._

That was an odd thought; and one she more _heard _than actually _thought._ It was certainly a foreign idea to pop into her head like that; just because she mastered a new level of Movement of the Mind was no reason to get all uppity. Dismissing this train of thought, Tabetha quietly worked her way around the house to the front stoop, just as the cab that Tyler was evidently compelled to travel in pulled up. The Brujah stepped out and paid the fare. Her turned and looked a little startled to see her already on the stoop.

"You and your magic will probably never stop spooking me." He commented as good naturedly as he could manage. The two of them had known each other for quite awhile; or at least of each other. They may have been completely different parts of campus, but they were still on the same campus in college back when they were both human. Tyler was the jock; a future football star and she was a well on her way to becoming a doctor. She also had several minor courses in parapsychology, esoteric sciences, comparative theology, and philosophy. When she wasn't studying, much of her interests involved occult studies. Occasionally some her acquaintances among the occultists would almost literally drag her to parties, and this was how she and Tyler would see each other from time to time. His infatuation with her then was obvious, and she suspected it lingered now. That could be useful to know...

...there was a presence...

Waiting for Tyler to get to the stoop, she turned her head to where she was sure she felt Max was watching her. Nothing was there, and the feeling dissipated. She reckoned it was plausible that he _was _watching her astrally, but he was gone now.

_Just as well, if he knows what is good for him, he will watch himself, and not dare to spy on ME again! _

There was that foreign thought pattern again! It was true that she didn't much care for the idea that Master Strauss would watch over her like an overprotective parent, but she also knew that was his way. He would only want to ensure that his student was well; it was probably as close to affection that Max could manage.

"Hey, girl," Tyler called, snapping his finger in front of her face. "Are you still here, or what? You gotta stay on task. Remember, we're here on Masquerade business."

"Yes," Tabetha replied, putting on what she hoped was an inviting smile. "Of course we are. Shall we continue?"

"Yeah, about that," he said, clearly going into quarterback mode. "I've been thinking. Back in College you dabbled in occult shit, right? Maybe you can talk us in like we heard his comment on the show and want to hear more of his story. We can act like we sort of believe him; maybe we say we noticed some weird shit, too, and figured we all ought to compare notes. I can make him want to believe us, which he probably will anyway, and then we're in and from there we can figure a way to shut him up. What do you think?"

She had to admit; it wasn't a bad play. It should at least get them in the door. "It's a start." She said.

Tyler grinned. "Alright," he said, clasping his hands together. "Let's do this."

With Tabetha in front, they approached Gomez's front door, and she knocked lightly. The door opened slowly. A squat young man with a bowl haircut and a soul patch on his chin peered through the crack in the door held back by a small chain. Behind her, Tyler activated his presence as the both of them smiled warmly.

"Hi there" Tabetha greeted, "I know it's really late and we hate to disturb you. By any chance are you Mr. Gomez?"

"Yeah, that's me." He replied. "Who wants to know?"

"Good evening, Mr. Gomez" she said. "I'm Tabetha and this is Tyler." She could tell Tyler was waving behind her. "We're students at the University, and were down at Asylum for Deb's show when we heard your call."

"Yeah?" he asked, "so?"

"Well, you see, here's the thing. I've been taking some courses in parapsychology and paranormal activity, and I was hoping to talk to you about some of the things you know."

Gomez brightened. "Really?" he asked.

Tabetha nodded, looked around quickly, and leaned in closer to crack in the door. "Let me be honest with you, Mr. Gomez. I was going to say it was purely for research, but the truth is I'm starting to believe you."

Gomez shut the door, fumbled with the chain, and opened the door again. "Why is that?" he inquired.

"I'm glad you asked." Tabetha replied, stepping aside slightly so Gomez could see Tyler more clearly. "It's because Tyler here came to me about a month ago saying he's been seeing some strange things..."

"I've been seeing some seriously fucked up shit, man." Tyler interrupted; his timing could not have been better for the act, "stuff that can't be real, but is. It's been screwing with me ever since. I can't get my game on anymore because of it."

Tabetha shot a glance at Tyler, as if to suggest he needed to be quiet. Apparently he caught on to what she was doing, and stopped talking.

"I'm sorry about that." She said graciously. "As you can see, he's pretty upset with what he thinks he saw. We were at Asylum talking about it and what my research and studies had produced when we heard your call. Now, because some of what you said matched up with what Tyler saw...?"

Gomez was looking excited now. "What exactly did you see?"

"Well, why don't you let us in, and we can start comparing notes?" Tabetha suggested.

"Please, man," Tyler pleaded. "You know what it's like to know for sure this shit is real and nobody believes you. You how it feels to think that maybe you really are losing your mind. Maybe we can help each other out."

Gomez took his eyes off of Tabetha for a moment to regard Tyler, who was wearing an expression on his face that looked both desperate and a little bit scared; with his presence activated, the effect was really quite convincing. Apparently it was enough for Gomez, especially combined with a pretty 'bookworm' girl asking to be let into his house, because he slowly stepped away from the door and made room for them to pass by him, though the small hallway which bypassed a filthy kitchen and breakfast nook, and into the living room which was connected to a dining area.

Like the table in breakfast nook, the dining area table was cluttered with paraphernalia and papers of all sorts; maps, printouts, spreadsheets, graphs, and newspapers just name a few. The living room was neat, but also a jumble of nonsense; the coffee table had a roadmap of The Los Angeles area with red circles all over it, and various scribbles and lines connecting a number of the circles. Among the things scribbled near the circles was the word 'wizard (?)' at a circle that matched alarmingly close to the location of the Chantry, 'snake cult vampires: burnt down by vampires' with last nights' date where the fire that Fenris and Tyler set last night was. The Cameron Arms hotel was circled, 'owned by vampires?' beside it. There were a number of others, but at the moment those were the ones that stuck out. There were diagrams, photographs, timetables, and more graphs papering the walls, and the floor was littered with a vast collection of books on a number of topics ranging from occult lore to government scandals to a multitude of volumes surrounding illuminati theories.

Gomez sat on the sofa and invited them to sit. Tyler took an easy chair, Tabetha sat on the sofa, leaving an empty space between her and Gomez. Gomez reached onto the table at a pack of cigarettes. He pulled and put it in his mouth; his hands were trembling violently.

"Do you mind?" he asked them as he proceeded to light it. "I normally smoke outside, but right now I'm convinced it isn't safe."

"It's fine." Tabetha replied, smiling. With just the quick glance around, she really wished Marko was on this assignment. The Malkavian might be able to identify with this man's brand of madness, or at least convince him he was way off; even though in reality he wasn't.

"Great" Gomez inhaled, and then exhaled a plume of smoke. He looked at Tyler and offered the pack top him; Tyler declined. Gomez shrugged and tossed the pack back onto the table. "So here we are." He said. "What's your story?"

Tabetha expected this; of course a guy at this level of paranoia would want to hear the other guy tell his piece first. She couldn't tell if Tyler saw it coming or not, but he did well in stalling to think of for something to say; he looked at Gomez as if assessing the guy, opened his mouth, and lowered his gaze while shaking his head to the negative.

"Go ahead, Tyler," Tabetha prompted him. "Tell him about the cheerleader and the frat party."

Tyler hesitated. It was clear he was putting together an account that would seem plausible, but he was quite believable in making look like he was just working up the nerve to talk about it.

"Alright" he said finally, slowly raising his head. He told a story about a cheerleader at the college he'd been flirting with; a real hottie, he told Gomez, and made out to be quite ready to party, not like this big brain over here (indicating Tabetha, which made Gomez chuckle lightly). The way Tyler told it, she actually invited him to a party. Of course Tyler agreed; thinking he was finally gonna 'get some loving'. They went to the party, which was over in the arts department (the old theatre room which was no longer in use, Tyler said).

"So we get there, okay? And at first everything was pretty cool. Most of the people there were total art geeks, but I'm thinking it's all good. Anyway, one of the geeks pulls out this bottle and starts passing it around. I take a pull and it turns out to be some heavy shit; I don't even wanna know what it was. Next thing I know, this same dude is pulling a fucking snake out of his pants and everyone's doing nasty shit with it. The cheerleader takes out a knife and cuts this guys' bicep and starts licking the blood."

"You were drugged." Gomez interrupted, clearly disappointed.

"Man, I took a tiny pull of that shit, alight?" Tyler protested. "I might have been a little buzzed, but I was still with it!" He paused, then resumed. "You know what? Forget it! I thought maybe you'd be willing to give me a fair shake, but I guess not. I see shit with a little buzz on, and I'm not a valid source. This coming from a guy whose house is buried under a mile of Bohemian Grove bullshit! Let's get out of this hole, Tabby. This guy's a joke, and I'm sorry I wasted your time!" He started to stand up. Tabetha also started to rise. She had to admit, this was probably the right play.

"Wait!" Gomez stood. "Okay, you're right. Okay? You're a big guy, so one little drink probably won't impair you that much. I'm sorry, okay? It's just I've guys come and try to play me for a fool before."

Tyler feigned considering this, and slowly sat back down.

"Actually," Tabetha spoke. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom? You two go on comparing notes and I'll be right back."

"Sure" Gomez said, and he gave her directions, apologizing in advance for the mess.

Taking that in advisement, Tabetha headed for the bathroom. Once there, she closed and latched the door. Once she was sure she was not going to be disturbed, she opened the medicine cabinet above the sink which was coated in shaving scum; Gomez wasn't kidding about the mess. In the medicine chest she found what she was hoping for; a veritable pharmacy of medications. Most of them were of not much interest; Aspirin, cough syrup, stool softener, hair growth tablets, Cialis, that sort of thing. But there was one or two that did interest her; a mood stabilizer, and some knew anti-psychotic with a name she didn't recognize. She examined both, which were either both recently refilled or have been neglected since both were nearly full. Again she thought of Marko; if he was here, maybe he could just embrace him. Then Gomez would have to shut up. Still, now she had a play. Smiling, she put everything back the way it was, closed the medicine chest, and flushed the toilet for effect before returning to the living room, where Tyler was listening to Gomez, who pointing at locations on the map.

"...and the snake worshippers – like the ones you ran into – have a bunch of places they hide in the daytime" he was saying. He tapped on the location of the old Giovanni mansion. "Ten years ago, this house belonged to a big time Mobster, but the vampires wiped them out and made it look like Chinese gangsters. Anyway, that's where I think the snake worshippers' main base is."

"Son of a bitch," Tyler whispered.

"It's get worse." Gomez said; getting excited as Tabetha sat back down. "A couple of nights ago an ancient Egyptian coffin came into town. That coffin holds an ancient vampire in it, and it's not snakes these guys worship, but this guy. They say he's the Snake God of Storms and Destruction. They brought him her to LA so they could wake him up and start the end of the world."

Tabetha and Tyler exchanged glances. Some of his specifics were off; but he had the principle more or less right. Tyler was absolutely right that Deb's approach wasn't nearly good enough. Sooner or later, somebody was bound to take him seriously; most likely the wrong somebody.

"You believe this coffin is in that mansion." Tabetha said to confirm she was following his train of thought.

"I don't think it is; I know it's there!" Gomez countered. "It has to be."

It was worth looking into, anyway.

"Hold on a second," Tyler said with just the right amount of caution in his voice. "This is starting to sound a lot like the start of a battle plan or something. I didn't sign up for anything like that."

"Let's not talk like that yet," Tabetha countered. "Mr. Gomez, as Tyler over there pointed out earlier, I'm a bit of a bookworm, and what I'm doing here is all about research. I'm not saying that I don't believe you, but I'm not here just for accounts or theories. Do you have any tangible evidence? Please do not speculate or illustrate how your theories really do make sense. I really was hoping for something more concrete."

"Well, no..." Gomez replied. "That's part of the problem, isn't it? These vampires have had this society of theirs for centuries. Obviously they have gotten pretty good at covering their tracks."

"I see." Tabetha said. "For the purposes of my research, I have to ask you this: Have you ever been or are you currently on any medication, and have you ever been diagnosed with any sort of mental disorder." She quickly held up her hand. "I'm not saying anything about your mental condition; I just have to ask to be thorough. Whether any diagnosis is correct or not is irrelevant; it's just a standard procedure question." She then activated her dominate discipline "_It is best if you answer truthfully." _

Gomez flinched slightly, and then told them about the medications she found in his medicine chest, and the diagnosis the shrink gave him. Then he flinched again. "Hey, wait a minute, if this is research, why aren't you taking notes or recording this?"

"I have a photographic memory." Tabetha replied. It wasn't exactly true, but it was close. "Now let me ask you this; have you been taking these medications as prescribed?"

"Well, no," he answered, "not exactly. The thing is when I take them I feel all fuzzy and unfocused. I know the doctor said that is a temporary side effect while my body adjusts its chemical balance, but what if he's in on it? What if these drugs are supposed to keep me numb so I can't see the truth even when it's right in front of me? Did you ever think of that?"

_"You don't really believe that." _Tabetha answered, using Dominate. "Have you been mixing your medications with alcohol or any illicit drugs?"

"No" he replied, "No way; I even quit drinking because booze and drugs are the governments' way of keeping the masses unaware of what's going on all around them. I know it seems silly now, but for awhile I thought maybe the meds were just another way to do that, so I was taking half of what was prescribed so I didn't go too far off the deep end."

_"And now you see your mistake." _

"I see my mistake, now." Gomez repeated. "I really should be taking it as prescribed. That doesn't mean I'm wrong, though."

"I didn't say it did." Tabetha admitted. It could be, though, that _your interpretations are distorted. _You might have stumbled upon some weird cult, but undead creatures of the night and massive government conspiracies? Actually, _there probably is corruption in the government, but it's got to be completely human based." _

"Government corruption on an entirely human level makes sense, right?" Gomez said. "This whole thing with vampire wars and ancient gods is probably me misinterpreting some weird cult thing; like those gothic lifestyles kids."

_"You will start taking the meds as prescribed; starting tonight, as soon as we leave." _Tabetha said. _"Then you will incinerate all your research and documentations that have anything to do with vampires or magic. You will remember that you planned to make a map about them, but never got to doing it, and now you realize it would be pointless. You mentioned to the police that you think there might be a cult, and now you assume they are looking into it." _Tabetha instructed him; motioning to Tyler to take the map as she did. Gomez started to reaffirm the thoughts she planted and his intentions to incinerate all the vampire material from his research while Tyler took the map. Gomez also added that he wondered if the cops found anything on that cult.

"It's hard to say," Tabetha said conversationally. "Cults like that are secretive by nature, so they might never have anything concrete about any foul play connected to them."

"You're probably right," Gomez said. "Well, maybe they'll get busted for peddling drugs or something."

"Maybe" Tabetha agreed. "Just one more thing; _tell me all of your sources for the information you required. _I ask so I can have a complete portfolio on my thesis."

"I've always had an interest in the occult and stuff like that. I guess when I'm off my meds I just start seeing things that are real enough, but my head just reads it all wrong."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Gomez."

Cameron

Cameron Hastings shut off the radio, leaving him in the silence of the office he kept in the Cameron Arms Hotel. The racket of 'Deb of Night' and the party being held at the Malkavian Club was proving to be an unwelcome distraction as he reviewed the latest he had from Mercurio's work on the activities of the twins. Most of it was speculative, albeit logical. One point of interest was a hint he picked up from that idiotic ghoul of Therese's. It was starting to look like Therese was indeed planning a seizure of Praxis. _I'm so sad for her that she is going to meet with an Assamite very soon._

Alone in the room, Cameron allowed himself to chuckle humorlessly at his sarcasm. Then the intercom buzzed, indicating the attendant at the front desk was contacting him.

"Yes" Cameron acknowledged.

"Excuse me, sir," the attendant said. "There is a Mr. Mercurio her to see you. He says it's very important and he has priority clearance."

That was not quite what Cameron would have expected. Mercurio rarely left Santa Monica. If he did, he must have good reason.

"Very well" Cameron replied. "Send him up." Shortly after, there was a light rapping on the office door. Cameron bid Mercurio to enter. The door opened silently, and Mercurio stepped in; decked out in what passed for style and class in his mind. To Cameron he looked like Brooklyn gigolo stuck in the year 1973; even though he was not old enough to know what that would precisely look like even in the human sense of the word, nor had he ever been to New York.

"Good evening, Mercurio," Cameron greeted the ghoul. "I was just reviewing your reports so far. I hope you come to me with something a little more tangible now." It was always a good idea to make it sound like he was not impressed every now and again; it kept his retainer on his toes.

"That's why I came to you in person, boss." Mercurio replied, clearly more than a little nervous. "After Vandal at the Blood Bank let the ball drop on Therese, I thought to go to Asylum for a more direct look at the scene. I hate the place, but they make a world class Martini."

"Go on."

"Right; sorry about the digression. So I'm at Asylum. Deb of Night is setting up, even though as far as I know Deb ain't there yet. Sitting beside me is Bertram's go boy Knox. Janette steps out of the elevator to Therese's office and into the club; she's blowing kisses at everyone in the joint and skipping out the front door. Once Knox stops creaming in his jeans, he tells me Janette is probably going to see Bertram. He giggles about how he figures those two got some hot action going on. I flip the kid a bill and tail Janette, okay? Sure enough, she heads straight for Tung's hideout." Mercurio told Cameron, his narration is paused there.

Cameron waited, wide eyed in interest. He held out his hands palms up as if in anticipation. "And then what?" He asked finally, starting to lose patience.

"That's just the problem," Mercurio replied, taking a half step back. "She must have made me along the way, 'because once she was done with Bertram she tried to lay a mojo on me."

Cameron no longer had to pretend; he was not impressed. "What are you trying to tell me, Mercurio?" One thing had to be said for the ghoul; he was not short on guts. This was looking more and more like a failure by the minute. Cameron had to actually admire the fact that Mercurio brought this bad news in person. It was enough to inspire Cameron to make his end quick; not painless, but quick.

"Normally the mojos you types got don't work on me; I don't know why." Mercurio said. This was not news to Cameron. His will was strong; and that made him even more useful than most. "The thing is, I figured at the time that the best thing I could do in the situation was play along, okay? That's where the problem is; she fed me one story, that I know is a lie, and then there is the true story, but now I can't seem to remember which one is which."

This was interesting. Cameron raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can't remember which story is the real one and which one Janette told me." Mercurio said as plainly as could be said. "I know this is a problem, boss; but I think I got a solution." He hastily added.

"Do tell."

"Like I said, your mojos don't usually work, but maybe by playing along, I sort of halfway let it work, right? Well, what if I let _you _mojo me, and I let you all the way? I was also thinking that since you've been feeding me for ten years, maybe that'll make it easier for you or something." Mercurio suggested. Cameron had to admit; the idea had some merit. "Maybe if I all the way let you mojo me, you can get me to remember the true story."

Cameron hesitated, as if giving it some thought. Finally he shrugged as if indifferent. "Well, I suppose trying that couldn't hurt anything." He said, pointing to a chair nearby. "Sit down, Mercurio, make yourself comfortable."

Mercurio sat. Cameron got up, strolled casually around his desk, and leaned against it, facing the ghoul. They looked at each other, making strong eye contact.

"So you followed Janette all the way to Bertram's hideout." Cameron said. "Once you were there, you watched and you listened to what they were doing and saying. Mercurio," Cameron activated his Dominate, "_tell me what you _really _saw and heard." _

"Janette was skipping along right into that tank Bertram hides out in." Mercurio replied instantly. "She goes straight to Bertram, holds out her hand like she's a little kid expecting a present from her daddy. He hands her a thumb drive and says it's all the proof she and Therese will need for 'you know what'." He paused, grimaced. "Shit!" he exclaimed. "I might have been made. I can't book now, they'll see me for sure; maybe I'm jumping to conclusions, Bertram is a little paranoid, so it could be he's just being careful."

"_Never mind that right now. Go on. What happened next?" _

"Janette squeals like a schoolgirl. She takes the thumb drive and stuffs it down her cleavage. Then she asks 'Dumpling' what this is going to cost. Bertram looks at her like she's the love of his life and tells her it's a gift for _her, _but for Therese... Janette cuts him off and promises she'll be happy to pay a boon. Bertram says he has no doubt of that. Then he says something about a secret dynamic. Janette starts jabbering about dancing around a mirror with her sister."

"They are feigning a rivalry," Cameron said; a sense of triumph in his voice. "I always suspected that. You have done well, Mercurio." It was really a smart play; this way, Therese had a set of eyes and ears on her would be rivals. Also, she had a degree of control over their activities.

"There's more."

"_Then tell me everything." _

"Janette says something strange; even for her. She says that Therese doesn't know about the dance. She says this is for her protection. Bertram agrees to keep the dance under his mattress for the previously agreed fee. Janette says that's fair." Something in Mercurio changed; somehow he snapped out of the thrall Cameron had him in. "Do you know what a blood bond is?"

Sure he had heard enough, Cameron released his hold. "Of course." He said.

"Now that I know which version of the movie in my head is the right one, I can just tell you the rest. Janette breaks her skin and holds her bleeding wrist out to Bertram. When Bertram balks, she must have done her mojo on him and convinced him it was what he wanted; that he asked for it. Then, of all things, Bertram gets _on his fucking knees_ and starts sucking on her wrist like a regular junkie. After awhile, she pulls free and tells him his feelings are real. That was when she left. On my way back is when she blindsided me and tried her mojo on me. That version is just them messing around on his mattress. My guess is that would serve to verify whatever it is Bertram thinks is going on with them."

"I can just imagine." Cameron agreed quietly. How could Therese not know about their partnership? Was Janette delusional? Or was it something else? Cameron smiled grimly and looked up at Mercurio. "That will be all, Mercurio," he said. "Thank you."

Mercurio left without a word. To Cameron, he looked both tired and relieved. In all honesty, the ghoul earned some rest. This was a big find. _The twins dance around a mirror..._That really could only mean one thing; they see each other instead of their own reflections. Given the Malkavian frailty, that must mean that Therese and Janette are one in the same.

Suddenly many things made sense. The twins were never seen at the same time. What was truly amazing was how long they were able to hold the ruse. _No, not they; _she _has been holding the ruse, and not just because they were the same person. Only one of them is aware of the fact. _

The interesting thing was which one was apparently the one who knew; he would have thought that Therese was the dominant one that knew the real score. Apparently that is simply not the case. Unless the situation is that the alternate knows she is the alternate; not that it really matters one way or the other. The real question to ask now is just how far Janette will go to keep Therese in the dark delusion she has created for herself...


	6. another look

**The Following takes place during the events of chapter 12**

Janette:

Once outside of the Nocturne Theatre, Janette quit skipping and started to almost sprint around the corner and into the alley behind. Beside the dumpster, Therese's big hunting the rifle; the same one she used to splatter their father's brains all over the Silly Clown Wallpaper, was waiting right where she left it. That was exactly what Therese asked her to. Therese also asked her to go in and tell Nines that she would be a little bit late, but should be able to show up on time for the ambush. Janette did exactly that; she gave Nines the message and put the rifle right where Therese wanted it. What was too bad for Therese was that she didn't tell Janette to leave it loaded, or rather with how many rounds to load it with.

Janette liked Nines; he could use a bit of a crash course in the art of having a sense of humor, but men could have much worse flaws than that. She certainly didn't want to see him get destroyed, even if it meant that both she and her sister would profit from it. She tried to warn him telepathically about Therese, but she doubted that Nines got _that _message. Some folks just get blocked from that sort of thing. Nines was one of, if not the best fighter in the city, so she had no doubt that he could handle the Assamite; her concern was that Therese fully intended to finish off whoever won in that scrap, and come out looking like a hero. This was why she only loaded the rifle enough for one shot, just in case the Assamite won.

Having done as much as she could- short of keeping _the body _until the whole ambush was over- Janette fixed her hair, straightened out her blouse, slacks, and jacket, fixed her tie, and placed the totally irrelevant spectacles on her face. Then, reluctantly, she let the mirror spin and gave _the body _back to...

Therese

The rifle was right where it was supposed to be. At least Janette got that part right; hopefully she also made sure Mr. Rodriguez know she would be delayed, yet still present for the ambush. There was one thing that needed to be checked though; Therese knew her sister well, and knew she might try one of her tricks to protect her friend...

Therese clutched the rifle and checked to see if it was loaded. She was not in the least surprised to find it was, though only for one shot. In theory, she should only need one shot, but it was always better to have at least two in the event of something going awry. Therese expected as much from Janette; what did surprise her was the fact she wasn't angry about it.

"Poor Janette," she said aloud to nobody in particular. "I know you had to try."

Because she anticipated this effort from her sister, Therese set up contingencies. One of those contingencies was pulling up to her in the alley at that very moment; Vandal stopped the hearse he insisted on driving and killed the engine. The vehicle itself was more than a little gauche, but then so was her ghoul. Still, the vehicle was well maintained and quite effective overall; especially for her purposes tonight. She approached the car's passenger side and stuck her arm through the window once it was fully rolled down. Inside, Vandal eyed her wrist; clearly looking for a wound from which he could gain a taste of her vitae. He grumbled when he saw no wound, and then opened the glove compartment, reached in, and produced two more shells for her rifle which he then placed in her hand. At least this time he had the consideration to turn down the awful cacophony he called music without her telling him to.

"Is this why the Queen Bi...the Queen had me switch to the day shift today?" he asked.

"Partly," she replied, loading the extra shells into the rifle.

"Then it is time for _my _fix?"

"Soon," Therese reassured him. "There is a high probability that I will have one more assignment for you tonight; an easy one, and one you will enjoy I promise you."

Vandal brightened. "Will it be painful?"

"Not for you, dear," Therese said. "For now I need you to wait here while I go inside and take care of something. When it is done, I will text you."

"Yes, your majesty," Vandal said in his usual morbidly cheerful manner. He rolled up the window as she turned away and headed inside the theatre. As she left the car behind her, she could hear him turn that noise he liked so much back up; not enough to draw attention, but loud just the same. Therese wasn't certain, but she believed it was what the Kine called 'speed metal'. Despite all of his many shortcomings, Vandal was actually reasonably competent, and certainly loyal – if a little lacking in gratitude.

Mercurio

This wasn't good; not good at all.

With a trembling hand, Mercurio picked up his phone and scrolled his way to Cameron's line for the third time since he got back from watching Janette and Bertram and their little exchange. For the third time he balked and shut the phone off and put it back down. He saw what he saw, but he had a problem; he wasn't sure what he _really _saw.

His mind kept playing two different versions of the same movie; like two alternate scenes or something. In both, he was made; Janette spotted him and had a little talk with him after she was done with Bertram. He knew that part for sure; just like he knew for sure that she tried to lay some kind of Kindred mojo on him. For reasons he didn't fully understand, the mojos didn't work on him; they never did. His former master once explained to him that it was because that shit only really worked on fools; the weak minded. This, he said, was why he chose him to serve; because he had a strong mind and was no fool.

That didn't change the fact that Janette scared the crap out of him. Because of that, he decided the best way to keep his skin on his body was to play along and hope that Malkavian nutcase wouldn't know the difference. She let him go, so he guessed his play worked. The problem was that now he wasn't so sure what version of the movie was the one that actually played out and which one Janette tried to plant in his skull. It was like that by playing along he half let her have her way with him.

In one version, Bertram handed her a thumb drive; it all the proof she needed, he told her. Then he tried to lean on her about a secret that the twins had. Janette started talking about dancing around a mirror and got all flirty with old bubble head. Bertram said something about a previous agreement and then conceded to a blood bond. While this was going on, he took the opportunity to make his leave. He got almost all the way back when Janette popped out of nowhere and tried her mojo on him.

In the other version, after Bertram handed off the thumb drive, he wanted payment, he whispered something in Janette's ear, and then the two of them did the old bump and grind. Mercurio didn't actually watch this; he looked away and started to leave. He got almost all the way home when Janette popped out of nowhere and tried her mojo on him.

He couldn't tell which version was the real one and which was the plant; that was the problem. The last thing he wanted to do was give Master Cameron the wrong intelligence report. He thought about giving him both, but that could get confusing. Cameron didn't like anything less than answers that were not crystal clear. He supposed Cameron might have a mojo of his own; he was, after all, a Ventrue. Ventrue had a mojo. The problem was that it wouldn't work on him.

Mercurio had an idea all of the sudden. LaCroix once told him it was his will that kept him immune to things like Domination or whatever they called it. It was like being hypnotised, he supposed. What if he let himself get hypnotized by Cameron so he could get the right answer out of him? That might work. Of course, that would mean he'd have to meet Master Cameron in person. Mercurio picked up his phone a fourth time; this time he hit the call icon on his masters' number.

Vandal

_Won't that stupid ghoul bitch ever shut up? I swear, if it didn't mean I'd have to go and find _another _vessel, I'd sew her mouth shut and make her watch me skin her alive with a potato peeler on HD. _

Vandal got the little Gangrel back to the clinic just like The Queen Bitch ordered and hooked her up to the stupid ghoul that the one that was boning The Queen Bitch's Jester Sister lured in here ten years ago. Ten years later and still she constantly whined and cried for her former sugar-daddy Kent Something or another. The Captain; that's the one boning the Jester, came in at intervals to maintain her ghoul status, but other than that he – Vandal – did all the real work. He was the one that had to put up with her constant bitching and pissing and moaning. It was about time that The Queen Bitch let him out of the cage to do something real. At least he got _his fix _tonight.

Once the hook up was done, and the Gangrel was being fed intravenously, Vandal stepped back and watched in curious wonder. He had to admit, even he underestimated just how resilient Vamps really were; he thought for sure this was would die on the way and he'd be spending the rest of the night cleaning ashes out of his Cadaver Wagon. The damn thing actually made it home; guts hanging out and all. Once the blood started to get into her system, she started to heal. In awe and wonder he watched. He heard somewhere once that the Gangrels were among the toughest ever. He was starting to believe it now. Maybe if this one knew he was the one who really saved her life, AGAIN, maybe he could convince her she should turn him; right under the pointy little nose of the Queen Bitch...

Vandal shook the thought off. Queen Bitch would find out before it happened. She always finds out; she always knows everything. She would find out and both of them would see The Clown Wallpaper before being tossed out over the Pier like spoiled meat and dust.

"Who's she? What's she doing here?" The Stupid Ghoul asked in that nasally drone of hers. "Where's Kent? Why is he letting you do this to me? Did I do something wrong?" She broke down into tears. "Tell him I'm sorry! Tell him to let me out of here!"

Vandal had had enough. He snarled at her and stormed out of the walk in cooler to his cage. There he reached under his desk and produced a roll of duct tape; surely even The Queen Bitch would forgive him placing a strip over her mouth until she stopped squawking. Just as he was about to return to the cooler, The Captain walked into the clinic and towards his cage.

Damsel

Vesuvius was pretty quiet tonight; Damsel figured that was because the Pit was getting most of the business due to that Deb of Night party being broadcast, and judging from how packed X's place was, she figured right.

Back at VV's peeler bar, VV confirmed that Tyler did actually send that slutbomb Kaila to her. In fact, Kaila was on the center stage even as they spoke; her gig was low-light belly-dance set. The few guys in the place seemed all but hypnotized by her; even Jack seemed to be enjoying her set just a little too much. VV noted that this lick had to be incredibly old, which struck Damsel as odd; her experience with Capes that old was they were hardcore Cammies, but VV said this one wasn't. Whatever the case, she likely had Presence up her dumper and then some more to spare. Maybe Tye just got caught in that for a minute or two and then came to his senses. One guy managed to pull his eyes off the stage just long enough to give her a once over, as if wondering if she was part of the talent. _Keep dreaming, jerk-off. _

Damsel liked VV well enough; they didn't exactly see eye to eye on everything, but the Toreador was loyal to Isaac and the Cause. She was a little bit prissy about getting to the wet work, but she knew enough to stay out the way when things got wet, and was always good about setting up places to dry out. Just the same, Damsel was not in the mood to watch a bunch of floozies get naked, so she opted to check out the Pit instead. Jack hung back at Vesuvius; to make sure this Kaila was on the level, he claimed. _Right, Jack; enjoy the view._

The Pit was packed. Clearly Deb's party was a hit. Damsel weaved her way through the throng and found an isolated table to chill out on. Truth was, she felt pretty good; Tye probably wasn't screwing around, the Setites were already losing ground – thanks in part to that son of a bitch Cammie – and Nines, Skelter and Fenris had the Assamite well in hand. Who would have thought that Fenris would turn out to be alright? The point was it looked like she could relax a little. From her seat, facing the dance floor, Damsel watched the party, and contemplated if one of the party goers might make a nice meal...

And then her view was obscured. The skinless face of Imalia fazed into existence right in front of her, causing Damsel to flinch at the abrupt and unpleasant change of scenery. Her back was to the crowd, which was much too preoccupied to notice the Nosferatu anyway. Even without lips, Imalia seemed to manage a smile at the fright she caused. At this point, Damsel was willing to let that go; Imalia didn't have many options for whatever passed for joy since Gary ripped her former life apart. In a lot of ways, Damsel felt sorry for Imalia.

"You got me good that time," Damsel said. "You don't show yourself too often, so I'm gonna guess this appearance is for more than a quick jump scare."

"You got that right," Imalia agreed. "I figured you'd want to be kept up to date on the status of that ambush you guys set up at the Nocturne." She held up a bony finger, the fingernail still painted a bright red. "Since you've always been one of the only ones in this shitty town that's been nice to me, this one's a freebie."

"Righteous."

"The Assamite is dead; Therese got the final blow, so those assholes won't be sending anymore for the Barons of LA." Imalia informed her. "That's the good part. Before you go thinking that it's all good and the mission is accomplished, you should know it's not without cost."

Damsel did not like the sound of that. That meant there was collateral damage. "How bad?" she asked.

"I just got word from Knox who got word from a snitch that Therese's ghoul was spotted hauling that Gangrel kid into the blood bank. She was hurt pretty bad." Imalia started. Skelter is missing, presumed dead." She paused, and it felt like she had more to say to Damsel.

"What else?" Damsel pressed, struggling to keep herself in check; a heavily populated nightclub was the absolute worst place to frenzy.

"In the ambush,' Imalia said, clearly struggling herself, "Nines..."

Slamming her fists onto the table, Damsel let out a long stream of curses. Imalia didn't need to finish her sentence; it was clear that Nines got dusted in the ambush. Before vanishing again, Imalia said that it was Cammie that called the Assamites in; and that all of this, including the Setite bullshit, was part of his play to bring the Camarilla back into town with himself as Prince under his family banner. She also said that Bertram had a plan to make sure that didn't happen.

Damsel got up and left the Pit; maybe the zombies at the cemetery would provide her with the means to vent. She didn't like or trust Bertram in the least; it was no secret that he was a Cape at heart. That was really beside the point right now, anyway. What she needed to do right now was let loose a little before she tracked down that candy-assed Ventrue and ripped out his mother-fucking spine.

Mitnick

_I gotta hand it old Bert. He _really _knows how to play this game. _

With stakes as high as they were starting to get, Mitnick knew it probably wasn't right to think of these matters as a game; but he really couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the nerd in him coming out. Thinking about like a game actually _did _help him cope in a way; it kept him from dwelling on just how badly screwed they'd all be if anything went wrong. As long as he didn't dwell too much, he could keep his head...well... in the game and _not _e the one who screws anything up.

At first, this particular play made no sense to Mitnick. He got that Bert wanted to see a Camarilla resurrection; he even understood why. Though the Ivory Tower was by no means perfect, it was probably the safest bet for the Kindred as a whole; Bertram was right about that. He still didn't quite understand why he would want to back a Malkavian for Praxis; but then again other than Bertram himself or maybe Strauss she was the most viable option, and she seemed to actually want the job. The option was Cameron. Mitnick actually liked the Ventrue; sure he was a dick, but only when faced with stupidity. Mitnick could identify with that. The problem there was his age and lack of experience; Bertram's concern was, rightly, that a young Prince –even a Ventrue- risks becoming a puppet or a Manchurian Candidate way too easily.

"It's better to put the fledgling Ventrue in a slightly lower place in Court for now," Bertram had told them. "Let him learn what it is exactly he's getting into and earn his stripes."

That made sense to Mitnick and Barabbas, and the newbie Ajax seemed willing to accept that. Imalia was willing to go along, albeit begrudgingly. She promised not to fill Damsel in on precisely what happened to her pal Nines. At first, he figured that Bert's support for Therese had to do with his weird-ass hard on for Janette; that was, until he got the nod to give an edited version of Therese snuffing Nines to Cameron along with a recorded message. The way Bert worked it out, the newbie Ventrue was just the guy to put that juicy little bit to exactly the right kind of use.

He was probably right. That was why Mitnick was popping out of Obfuscate in front of the mailbox at the Skyline apartments with a floppy disk in hand. _How old school can you get? _ Looking around to be absolutely certain nobody was peeking; Mitnick slid the disk through the slot. That taken care of, he sent a quick text message to his young buddy and returned the way he came.


	7. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Tyler

"Oh, good; you're back!" Marko greeted them the moment they entered the club from the foyer. He was wearing his pimp fur coat and gigantic top hat; the one like in the Dr. Seuss books. "I take it that means that the costume party is safe?"

"Yes," Tabetha confirmed. "The Masquerade is quite safe tonight. Mr. Gomez will not be a problem anymore."

Good," Marko said. "I'm glad to hear it." He paused a moment, as he had been known to do. It probably meant one of his voices said something. "So listen, Tidy Bear. The Dark Daughter just made my phone buzz, and she needs me to do an errand. I was wondering if you could be the rubber ball for little while."

"What errand?" Tabetha asked as Tyler blinked while translating from Markode to English.

"There's some business at the bank she needs me to look into." Marko replied. He turned his attention back to Tyler. It was pretty clear that he would say no more about it.

"Well, I guess it must be important," Tyler said. Part of the Networking deal involved helping cover employment gaps. By this time he figured out what Marko was asking; Therese called him, and needed him to do something at the blood bank. He wanted to know if he could cover as bouncer. "Yeah, I got this; you go do what you gotta do. Is there anyone I should be watching?"

"Make sure your chubby buddy doesn't hurt himself," Marko advised. "There are more ladies than he can keep up with." Then, before Tyler could say anything, Marko was gone. Tyler scanned the dance floor and sure enough; there was his brother from another mother Fat Larry with an F-A-T showing off that there is indeed more of him to love. Thing was, it really did seem the ladies were digging the fat guy. Maybe it was because at the end of the night, Larry didn't give much a damn one way or the other.

"I'll be damned!" Tyler smirked.

Overall, it looked like it was going to be an easy night. It was a big crowd; and the bartender was busy, but the crowd seemed relatively well behaved. He turned to say something to Tabetha; like maybe she should go and join the party, but she was already gone.

His phone went off. He looked at the display to see it was Damsel. Thinking this was most likely about Kaila; that even though he did send the dancer to VV chances were good Damsel still thought he was screwing around, he considered not picking up. Problem was that would just make him look guilty. Worse, it would look bad if he started stonewalling the Den Mother.

"Hey, darling!" he greeted her call as cheerfully as he could manage. "I was just about to give you an update on the Gomez thing that Tabetha and I..."

"Nines Rodriguez is dead." She interrupted. "Romero has the zombies under control, and I'm going to strangle that Ventrue jerk-off with his own spine!"

"Wait a second; slow down." Tyler said quickly. "Say that again."

"Where are you?"

"At the Asylum," Tyler replied, "covering for Marko while he does an errand for Therese. Now what are you talking about?"

"Let me guess," Damsel answered after composing herself a little. "This errand has something to do with Fenris, right?"

"He didn't say."

"Imalia told me that the ambush at Nocturne went sideways." Damsel explained. "Somehow the Assamite got wise to it. He probably got to Skelter, tagged Fenris bad, nailed Nines, and then Therese blew the Assamite away. She also tells me that Cameron set the whole thing up; that he's in bed with the Serpents in an attempt to bring the Cammies back into LA."

That made sense. Tyler was sure that the fact Cameron was playing both sides was already known; Ajax made that much clear. Of course, the line went that it was to save LA. It only made sense that this would be a play to usher in a new a Camarilla Praxis. He scanned the Asylum for Tabetha.

"Did Imalia happen to mention if the Tremere were privy to this little game of his?" he asked.

"She didn't mention the Warlocks at all." Damsel replied. "It wouldn't surprise me one way or the other, though. I'm telling you this much; the best way to end this shit show is to end that Hastings son of a bitch."

As much as he liked the sound of watching Cameron Hastings go up in a blazing cinder, there was that crap the Dark Driver said about following the heart and leading the heart to take into account. Flying off the handle like this sounded like the exact kind of thing that apparently screwed the Bruja Clan in the first place; if what He said about their role in forming the Camarilla in the first place was true. Whatever the case may be, the thing right now was to be sure the right play was made.

"Let me ask you something;" Tyler said finally. "What is it you always tell me about running into a situation blind?" As he predicted, Damsel did not reply; it was a rhetorical question. "You say that the only thing worse is running in cross eyed. You told me that that is a good way to run straight into the gutter. I get it, Nines got fried and you're pissed. I don't blame you; I'm pissed too. If Imalia has it right, then Cammie was gunning for Therese, too; and since she's the one who popped the Assamite, Cammie's Baron Game is done. He's finished there. As little as I like that Fancy Nancy, we need him to deal with the Setites. He can get us close."

Damsel was silent awhile longer, and finally spoke; "That's a good point." She cursed mildly. "How did you get so level headed?"

Tyler smiled. While Damsel was good about applying strategy, it was no secret she was kind of a hot head. When he was alive, Nines was always the cool one; him and Jack whenever Jack was around. He was about to say something to the effect of someone having to be, but decided that would come off too smart right now. _What would Nines do? _

"Tell you what;" he said, "get back to the Hollowbrook. I'll get back there as soon as Marko comes back from his errand, and we'll work out how to make this all work out for the greater good." As soon as he finished speaking he bit his lip; he hated that it sounded like he was in any position to give orders.

"Fine," Damsel said. Then the line was dead.

Fenris

"Please, Kent; let me out of here!" she was still wailing. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry! Just tell me, and I won't do it again! I promise!"

No wonder Fenris had a headache to go with the feeling of fish hooks in her guts. The worst part of it all was she was actually starting to feel sorry for this whiny little bitch. That had to be the blood talking; she could feel the exchange happening. Whoever this was; she was feeding her after that Assamite managed to get behind her. For that reason, the fact that she was beginning to empathize with this poor ghoul of Kent, and the fact she barely had the strength to remain even remotely conscious were what was keeping Fenris from telling her to shut the hell up already.

_Yes, Kent,_ she said internally _let her out of here. Please; for her sake as well as mine! _

"What happened to you?" she finally managed to croak.

That silenced the whiner for about five seconds. "Oh, you're awake now." She said with an uppity, nasal tone. "Good; maybe now that creep will take these tubes out of us and you can go away and Kent will let me out."

Fenris opted to let her apparently self centred attitude slide. She was, after all, proving to be very handy at the moment. She was just about to ask her reluctant benefactor who she was when a door at the other end of whatever room they were in opened up. Fenris strained to lift her head and open her eyes and saw Marko enter, followed by a gangly long haired guy in scrubs. He blinked at the ghoul strapped in the chair beside her.

"Good evening, Patty," he said in an unusually placid tone. _This has to be part of some Malkavian delusion. _

"Kent!" Patty exclaimed. "Thank God! I thought you left me here to die!"

"You know I could never leave you." Marko replied. "You must remember I put you in here to keep you safe. I have a lot of enemies that would love to hurt me by hurting you. I can't let that happen. As for my friend beside you; she got hurt by my enemies, and you agreed to help her to help me. Thank you, Patty." He paused, turned to Scrubs. "I think you can unhook her, now. The Gangrel seems healthy enough."

Without a word, Scrubs went about the business of unhooking a bunch of tubes which supplied her with vitae.

Opting to play along with Marko's narrative, which held just enough truth in it to be easy enough to follow even in her state, Fenris first thanked 'Kent', and then Patty, and finally Scrubs. Patty seemed satisfied. Marko told Scrubs to go fetch Patty some food, and then helped her out of the chair she was in.

"You're not really in any shape to do much else tonight, Fenris," Marko told her. "But I can set you up with a place to rest up over the day." Before she could say anything, Marko started to lead her out of the room. "The Baroness will like to speak with you first thing come moonrise."

Marko

Dr. Malcolm was easy enough to convince; Mark had worked with him before. In fact, he had most of the clinic staff convinced that he was Dr. Mark Oxford from the hospital psychiatric wing. He convinced Malcolm, 'his long time associate and friend on the golf course', that Fenris was one of his clients who had had a recent bad reaction to a new medication, and needed a day's rest in total silence to recuperate. This allowed Marko to place Fenris in a room in the clinic proper and assured she would not be disturbed until well after sunset the next day.

With that settled Marko thought about going home to take care of what Deb's radio man told him he should do. It would only take a few minutes. The TV was causing all sorts of problems, after all. His hammer was waiting in the closet, and Tidy Bear was being the rubber ball in the club...

_Don't forget Tabby Cat. _

...and then he could make a point of looking into what was wrong with Tabby Cat. He still wasn't sure who should go to about that. It could be a wizard thing; so he should go to the Wizard King. Then again, it might be relevant to the Baroness and her bid for Praxis, especially if Tabby Cat was some kind of secret weapon. Come to think of it, maybe he could start on that matter right away. Maybe the Baroness had access to the Network, too. Janette didn't seem to; or at least if she did, she didn't reveal it. Given that they shared the same body didn't make them the same person, did it? Well, yes it did, and no didn't. That all depended who was on which side of the mirror.

It was worth a try. Just before he entered the building where he slept most of his days, he focused his thoughts to send a message through the Network to the Baroness, wherever she was at the moment:

_Marko to the Baroness Therese: Watch out for Tabby Cat. Something is inside her. _

_Fine; is the matter with the Gangrel..?_

_It's under control. She waits to hear from you. Vandal says he's really sick of the Burger Girl. _

_We'll have to replace her soon, anyway. One more thing; please do not contact me this way again. It is an invasion of privacy and I don't like it. _

_Yes, Baroness. _Marko broke the link. He went inside and upstairs to his apartment. As always, the Television was on, somehow. The news man was watching him from his side of the screen; smiling that fake smile.

"How are you tonight?" the Newsman asked.

"I'm doing great!" Marko replied, matching his smile. He went straight to his closet. Normally he would take off his coat and check messages on the computer, but not tonight; not yet.

"What are you up to?"

"Why do you want to know?" Marko asked, reaching into the closet for the sledgehammer. "So you can report it?"

"Well," the Newsman retorted, "that is my job." He laughed. Apparently he saw the hammer and stopped laughing abruptly. "What's that for? Is there some demolition work going on?"

Marko regarded the Newsman with a satanic grin. "You might say that." He replied as he strode to the television, lifting the hammer.

The expression on the Newsman's face became a look of utter terror. His eyes darted from side to side, as if looking for a way out of his box.

"Hey, wait a minute..." Those were the last words the Newsman ever said to Marko. In a wide arc, he swung the hammer, slamming the head into the screen. The pressure behind the glass imploded with a pop, and glass flew across the room.

Now Marko had two things dealt with. Now he could go back to the Club and let Tidy Bear go.

Ajax

Finally the man who would be Prince comes down; Ajax observed from the front lounge of the Cameron Arms Hotel. This was actually quite some time after Mercurio had left. According to Bertram, the Ventrue's ghoul – prize from the LaCroix reign was spying on him and Janette earlier tonight. It didn't much matter, Bertram said. All it meant was that Cameron likely knew that Therese had proof of his role in the whole Assamite affair.

Since Cameron was on the move now, it meant that he would probably have the information that Mitnick planted soon enough. This was where Ajax had his job to do; make sure Cameron reviews the info, and make sure he knows to use it to put Therese in a standoff. Ultimately, the idea was to make sure Cameron did _not _get Praxis _yet. _Ideally, he would use his new leverage to ensure a nice, cozy role in Therese's court.

Sure enough, Cameron went to the Skyline Apartments; the first thing he did was check his mailbox, where he found the thumb drive that Mitnick left behind. So far, everything was going like clockwork. As the Ventrue took to the elevator, Ajax took to the vents. From those vents, the Nosferatu watched as Cameron loaded the drive and observed the edited footage of the Assamite going up in flames, and Therese emerging from the shadows. Then he saw Therese, rifle in hand, look up and around before taking aim and finishing Nines Rodriguez. The visual went blank after that, but an audio track was added; Mitnick's voice came through the computer's speakers:

"Well, there you have it buddy! Sure, Therese might think she has you by the balls, but now you've got something on her. Just think about it, newbie. How will the Kindred of the city respond if they find out the Baroness of Santa Monica took out their big hero? Play this right, and you'll be set."

Ajax watched as Cameron replayed the footage and leaned back in his swivel chair. He could almost hear the gears spinning and the wheels turning in the Ventrue's mind. Finally, Cameron pushed his chair away from his desk and spun himself around luxuriantly.

"Thank you, Mitnick my friend." He said, as if he guessed that Mitnick was still nearby. "You and your Clan will be remembered for this. You have my word."

As if on cue in some kind of cheesy movie, or like some kind of poorly written piece of fanfiction based off of said cheesy movie, there was a knock on the door. Ajax had a pretty good idea who it would be. Just in case, Ajax activated his obfuscate and continued to watch from the vents. Cameron shut closed the window on his monitor, got up, and checked the peephole before opening the door.

Ajax was right; it was Therese. _Here we go. Let's see how Cammie plays the cards he's been dealt. _

"Therese Vooreman!" He greeted warmly. "How good it is to see you someplace other than your lovely club. Won't you come in?" He stepped aside, almost with a bow, and let the Malkavian enter his apartment.

"Thank you, Mr. Hastings," Therese replied as she entered. "I won't keep you long, I promise. I'm sure you're a very busy man with all the property management you must be dealing with of late."

"Oh, not at all," Cameron said back. "In fact I could use a bit of a break. How is Janette, by the way? What has she been up to?"

"Some mischief or another, I would guess."

Cameron laughed in agreement. "Yes, I suppose my asking is rather redundant. I don't mean to be abrupt with you, but it is a rare occasion to see you out; one is bound presume it is for a good reason you have chosen to visit."

"You want to get to the point." Therese said. "I respect that. I'm here because it has come to my attention that you and the Camarilla contingent in this city have been very busy. You either directly or indirectly own large swaths of property and businesses in Los Angeles; most recently even in Chinatown."

Cameron held a hand up, palm facing the Malkavian Baroness. "I can assure you, none of my business or property interests encroach on Santa Monica in any way; apart from Mercurio, that is. I fully intend to honor our agreement."

_No, Cammie. _Ajax said internally. _Don't try to box her in..._

"I'm not worried about that, Mr. Hastings." Therese retorted. "In fact I'm not worried at all; quite the opposite. I have just spoken to Mr. Strauss, and have been added to the Camarilla of Los Angeles."

"Excellent!" Cameron brightened. "Welcome to the Ivory Tower."

"Yes, thank you." She smiled. "Now to the matter at hand; it's about time we cleaned the house up a little bit, I think."

"Really." He relied, more a statement than a question.

"Yes; I understand that you personally have taken steps to place yourself in the seat of authority in this city." She said. "I'm not here to kiss your ring in advance, but to offer some advice as one who has held a degree of the power you so readily seek. Make sure your closet is clean before you go any farther, or at least be sure your skeletons are well accounted for. Otherwise, you may do well to step back and let another take the role."

"That sounds like a challenge." Cameron said. From the vents, Ajax cringed. It was starting to look like Cammie was going to play the whole 'your skeleton is worse than mine' game. That would be a mistake; especially if he showed his dirt first. "You see, the thing is, your warning is a little bit like kettle calling the teapot black. It's no secret that I've infiltrated the Setite camp in order to find weaknesses in their network. But you have a much darker secret, Baroness."

Ajax only barely retrained himself from popping out of the vent to try to stop him; and only succeeded because he knew that it would do no good. Cameron reopened the monitor window and played the footage for Therese; stopping it just before the audio track Mitnick added.

"Tell me, Baroness." Cameron spoke, eyebrows raised. "How exactly do you suppose the locals would respond if they knew who it was that destroyed their hero?"

"The Nosferatu have been even busier than either of us, I see." Therese scowled. "Loathsome beasts; don't they see it doesn't really matter what they give you now? I'm sure the locals would be enraged. Almost as enraged as they would be if they knew who it was that set their hero up in the first place. Oh, it's true that I pulled the trigger on Mr. Rodriguez, but you are the one who loaded the gun which also destroyed Mr. Abrams, Gold, and if I understand correctly Skelter as well. It's enough to make anyone question whose side are you on, really?"

"Where's your proof?"

"Oh, it's quite safe, I assure you." Therese said with an almost smug confidence. To Ajax, this looked bad; Therese was definitely off her rocker, but she was also proof that crazy didn't mean stupid. She made the right play; as bad as her actions were, she could still count on Camarilla support for removing a problematic Anarch. So far, all she did was exploit the Ventrue's gambit; and she was right, Cammie's loyalty could be put into question.

"Well, then I guess we have ourselves in an old-school standoff, Therese." Cameron retorted without as much as a blink. "Either we both rise, or we both go down in flames and ashes. The way I see it, we both have leverage to take the other down with us, or we have the combined holdings and resources to be virtually unstoppable."

Therese raised an eyebrow. "What do you propose?"

"I'll step back from Praxis and actually support your claim, and in exchange you name me your Seneschal."

That was the move Cameron should have made.

Xavier

His deal with Ezekiel complete – despite the Prince's clear disappointment that the Sheriff already had her heart – and his health replenished through feeding in the local Rack, it was clear to Xavier Vega he would not make it back to Los Angeles tonight. With a little time left to enjoy the night, he opted instead to cruise and see the sites that San Francisco had to offer. He bypassed a hitchhiker. As he did so, he noted in the rear view mirror that the hitchhiker, a rather dark and sinister fellow who was likely kindred of immense power, followed the path of his car with his eyes. Though most of his face was hidden under the brim of a driver's cap, Xavier could make out a thin smile on the dark man's lips.

San Francisco was really quite the city; Xavier was particularly impressed with how clean it was for a metropolis of its size. What he also made particular note of was how smoothly traffic ran. Jack wasn't kidding when he mentioned that Prince Ezekiel ran a tight ship; even the architecture was remarkably well preserved. Whatever differences the Prince and the Anarch State of Los Angeles had politically, Xavier had to admit to himself that there was some merit to the manner which Ezekiel ran the affairs of his Domain.

_There he is again! _

The hitchhiker was once again about two blocks ahead of him; by Xavier's count this was the third time he saw this guy; the first time was during his visit in the Rack. At that time, the dark man had actually dismissed another driver; it was as if He wanted a ride specifically from him. This time, the grin from under his cap was intimidating and inviting Xavier at the same time. Whatever this dark Hitcher had, it was making the Blood in Xavier's veins scream to run as far and as fast as he could, yet also beckoning him to stop and give the _Dark Father _a lift. As Xavier drew near, as he was about to hit the accelerator and speed away, he saw the Man mouth one word:

"_Come." _

Xavier stopped the car right beside the Hitcher. Somehow he did not have the sense he could never get far enough away nor get there fast enough, anyway. The Hitcher opened the passenger door and sat beside him. Xavier could feel both a push towards the Hitcher and a pull away from him; the Blood was drawing in, the Flesh pulling away.

"Take a moment, Rose child." He said, his voice chilling in its warmth, and strangely enlightening in its darkness. "It will pass soon enough. It may interest you to know that Jack's initial response was much the same as yours."

"Who are you?" Xavier asked, and quickly lamented his asking; it suddenly seemed pert to ask such a thing to one such as Him.

He smiled. "It's odd how so few ask that. I never understood why; it's as if they think they already know."

Did He just approve the question? Xavier wasn't sure. He didn't answer the question; He only remarked that it rarely gets asked. _Is _this the Dark Father, the First of our kind? If it is, then perhaps there is no way anyone can truly know Him; not really and truly.

_You grasp the truth better than most, Rose child; the artists and the lunatics usually do. _

"I suppose that could be said of anyone." Xavier ventured. "Does anybody really know anybody? Do we even really know ourselves until we face the darkest parts of whom and what we are and find a way to rise above it?"

"Spoken like one who has been to those depths and risen back out."

"Well," Xavier replied, "I'm working on it."

"Indeed you are, Rose child." He agreed. "On your climb, do not forget those who are also fallen, and are falling; and keep those who have ascended close to you."

Quite abruptly, Xavier's mind's eye flashed on Nines, Damsel, and Tyler; he saw Nines burning, Damsel raging, and Tyler twisting in a cyclone. _Flash! _He saw Tabetha lost in an inky blackness; with her was another. Was it Strauss? No, not Strauss; this was something much older. Xavier wasn't even sure if this other could even be called kindred anymore. Whatever it was, it was both foreign and familiar. _Flash! _There was VV, on the shore of a river; he saw her as if he was under water, and she was reaching out to him to pull him out from the current.

The last one made sense to him; she was helping him regain the humanity he lost in his battle with Andrei. Her love was his strength. Even now, he longed to return to her.

"I forgot to ask," he said finally. "Where are you headed?"

"The question you should be asking is where _you_ are headed." He replied. "I recommend you go home. It is where you are needed most."

Barely suppressing his laughter, Xavier said, "Home is Hollywood! I won't make it there in the time we have now!" It was then that Xavier realized that he had been driving this whole time.

"Look around you, Rose child."

Xavier did.

He was home, in front of the Pit, and the Hitcher was gone. Xavier blinked in disbelief; he glanced at the clock mounted in his dashboard. It read five minutes since he picked the Dark Hitcher up.

Tabetha

The fool! _The thought was not hers, but Tabetha felt it ring in her mind and apart from her own consciousness as she watched Therese leave the Chantry after striking an agreement with Max. _What is he thinking? That a lunatic like this woman can be trusted with such a responsibility?

_Tabetha Toussaint had left her body back in a stall of the ladies room in the Asylum and took to the Astral Plane, from where she travelled to see what Max was doing; to see if she could learn the _real _reason why he tried to follow her. By the time she got to the Chantry, Max and Therese were finalizing their agreement. She offered him a guaranteed position as Harpy if he endorsed her claim to Praxis on behalf of the Camarilla. _

"I have always been in support of the Ivory Tower, I assure you." _She insisted. _"It was only a matter of getting my sister on board."

"Pardon my caution, Miss Vooreman," _Max replied. _"Might I ask if I can be equally assured that when the time comes you will remember your end of this bargain?"

_At this, Therese beamed. _"Absolutely you can!" _she said. _"You'll find dealing with me is much more reliable than most of the Kindred in the State. As long as you hold up your end, my word is golden."

_Max then agreed to the terms and Therese excused herself. Cervantes, waiting at the exit, opened the door for her. The thoughts that were not hers aside, she had her own doubts about the stability of a Domain with a Malkavian Prince. Lacroix was bad enough, and he was a Ventrue. It was possible that Max thought that as Harpy, he could keep her in check; Tabetha figured he'd have to have the support of a Keeper, Seneschal, and a Sherriff for that to work. A strong Primogen council would be essential, too. If all of these pieces were in perfect place, then perhaps she could have the title with little harm done. _

_Tabetha had lost interest in Max for the moment; it seemed a much higher priority to watch Therese. She could come back to Max and keep him updated. Master Strauss would be most pleased with her efforts tonight. Therese headed directly to the Skyline apartments from the Chantry; she apparently had business with Cameron. That struck her as more than a little odd; neither of the sisters had much of an opinion of him. _

_They haggled; they tried to blackmail each other, neither aware of Ajax in the vents. Finally, Cameron won himself the position of Seneschal; Tabetha wasn't sure if Therese was too happy about it, but she accepted the terms as laid out by the Ventrue. _Well played, Cameron. You've come a long way in ten years.

"Psst!-Psst!-Psst" A voice from outside was in her ear. "Here, kitty; wake up, Tabby-cat!" 

It was Marko back at the Club. He must have finished his errand and sent Tyler away. Someone must have spotted her in the stall. She cursed herself for being so careless; of course she would be spotted in such a public place with so much drinking going on. She returned her consciousness back to her body reluctantly, wanting more than anything to follow Therese some more.

"I think she's dead." A club-girl said morbidly.

"Nah, she ain't dead, baby-girl!" a fat black man called in from just outside the bathroom. "She's just had a little too much of the juice and burned herself out is all!"

_That's as good a cover as any. _

"What happened? Where am I?" Tabetha asked, trying to sound drunk. To her own ears, she didn't sound too convincing, but with the majority of the people around her, it might be good enough.

"It seems you decided to take a little Cat Nap in our restroom, Tabby-Cat." Marko replied, using his friendly but official voice usually reserved for clubbers about to get told it's time to get out. She looked up at him, and he was looking at her strange; almost like he scrutinizing her. Her first instinct was to take offense; as if it was because she was female and it's somehow worse when a woman passes out in a nightclub restroom. Initially, it didn't even occur to her that he might know that isn't even close to what really happened. She was about to react to that first instinct when it dawned on her that he had to put up an act, too.

"No, I'm fine; really." She insisted, slurring her words as she stumbled while getting to her feet. Marko caught her and set her right.

"Okay, Tabby-Cat;" he said gently. "I think you've had enough fun for one night. I think it's time you went back to your books and studies." He led her out of the restroom, through the Club and outside to where a cab was waiting.

"I know Therese is making moves to become Prince of the City." She said quietly on the way out. Marko said nothing. That was not a denial. "I know she offered Max the role of Harpy, and accepted Cameron's bid for Seneschal."

Almost imperceptibly, Marko balked. "Janette was supposed to be the Sun Shell."

"Well, it's going to be Cameron, now." Tabetha insisted. "I can't imagine either of them is too happy about that." She left that vague on purpose; let Marko decide which 'them' she is talking about. Her hope was that Marko would talk more about Therese's plan. She had been around Marko enough that she was getting accustomed to babble and was able to make sense of most of it. Unless she misjudged horribly, Mark Oxford was actually a very honest man; odd to find that among the Kindred. Sadly, he fell silent for a moment, tilted his head slightly, and tittered.

"Ask your Wizard King, he knows all." He said finally, and let her into the cab.

Apparently that was all he was going to give. Maybe it was enough. Master Strauss may very well know what was going to happen with Therese; he most certainly had to have a plan. Besides, it was about time they had a little chat. She probably should tell him about the dream that felt like a vision, and about the sense of..._otherness _she was experiencing...

She instructed the cab driver to take her Downtown, and gave him a location about a block away from the Chantry. On the short walk to the Chantry, Tabetha made up her mind to track down Ajax at her earliest opportunity. He was in Cameron's apartment; he would almost certainly follow one or the other. She didn't know how, but the Nosferatu were playing a key role in this matter.

Cameron

They were in Therese's limo; nowhere near as elegant as Cameron's, but fairly impressive in its own right. Though Cameron had no doubt that his wealth was by far the greatest among the Kindred in city, Therese had done well for herself. The driver was pulling them into the parking lot of Vesuvius, which was really quite vacant tonight. In fact, traffic in general seemed quite light; at least for this hour. It might have had something to do with that ridiculous radio show. As little as Cameron may have cared to admit; the Malkavian, Toreador, and Bruja did indeed come up with a real win fall with that concept. He had no doubt that both Xavier and the big guy would probably feel faint when they see the numbers they generate.

Strauss seemed ambivalent about matters such as revenue, but never seemed to be running out. That made it good to have him on board; also it was always best to have the Warlocks with you rather than against you. Apparently, Therese felt she had that issue taken care of. He would have to look into that personally early tomorrow night. That left Miss Velour. Following the tragic end of Isaac Abrams, it seemed his entire assets fell squarely into her delicious lap, which meant her overall value to their society rivalled his own – possibly even surpassed that of Therese. Therese had to know that. Being a Malkavian did not equal stupidity on her part. The fact that she has managed to keep Santa Monica from going up into an inferno, single handed, even with her dual identity proved that she was indeed competent. True, she had no clue that Janette was actually herself bent on self sabotage for whatever reason is buried in her subconscious, but that only served to further prove the point that Therese was in fact very capable.

"You are aware that Miss Velour isn't particularly fond of either one of us, right?" Cameron asked. "How exactly do you intend to keep her at bay? She's most likely the only one who could challenge us."

Therese grinned darkly. "It seems tonight I teach you a lesson, young Ventrue." She replied. "I'm sure you know all too well that in business, timing is crucial, and that priorities have as much to do with when the ingredients are added as it does how much of each ingredient is added."

"Of course," Cameron agreed. He caught the recipe analogy easily enough; one had to follow the steps of a recipe in the order they are presented if one wants the best possible result.

"Velvet and Strauss have a kind of kinship with each other, despite their different political ideologies. I have Strauss supporting me, and through him I will gain hers; especially with Isaac gone. Besides that, I have little doubt that given a chance, I can convince Velvet that our ideas are more similar than different."

Cameron nodded. "So she probably knows we're coming." He said to confirm. "Max has, in all likelihood, contacted her with a heads up, doing a good deal of the heavy lifting for us. For you, I mean."

"I'm sure of it."

Cameron raised an eyebrow; impressed with the work Therese had done. She would have made a fine Ventrue; he wondered briefly what happened to her to attract the attention of a child of Malkav instead. He opened the door to the strip club for her, just as Jack was on his way out. The old Bruja gave the two of them a funny look as they passed each other without a word. They could hear bellow a warm greeting to someone in the parking lot as they stepped beyond the foyer and into the club itself. VV was sitting with a dark-haired beauty, apparently filling out some kind of paperwork. She was probably a dancer. One thing was clear even from this distance; whoever she was, she was definitely not human. In fact, in Cameron's estimation, she was so much more; it was almost divine. Finishing up with the raven-haired goddess, Velvet looked up at them just as X stepped in behind them; evidently back from San Francisco well ahead of schedule. Perhaps Prince Ezekiel ejected him. Velvet dismissed the dancer and beckoned them towards her. As they approached, Velvet pointed at Cameron and waved him aside.

"Not you, Ventrue," she said. "I will permit you to remain in my club, but you are not part of this...discussion." She turned her attention to Therese and X. "You two, come with me to my private room. We can talk much more...freely there."

Cameron was about to object, but Therese stopped him short with a look that said it all; she had this well in hand. His role here was merely demonstrative for now; to show that she already had the lion share of the City behind her. Allowing the Malkavian to flex her muscles a little bit, Cameron relented. It couldn't hurt, he reasoned, to let her think he was intending to be fully loyal to her for now.

"Far be it for me to question my boss on the first night on the job," the beauty said from behind him; a hint of accent in her voice. "But why she would turn a handsome, successful, strapping young lad like you away is beyond me."

Cameron turned to face the dancer; who was clad only in bright red bath towel. She was even more gorgeous up close than she was from a distance. Her eyes blazed an emerald green; made all the brighter in contrast to her dark complexion. For the first time in a decade, Cameron actually felt a strong, genuine desire to be with someone; not just someone, but _her _specifically. Not even Heather Poe had this kind of an effect on him; nor Janette, for that matter. Both of them were attractive, to be certain, and in the case of Janette he wanted to do things to her, but this woman before him now was different again; _He wanted her. _

"I don't think it's entirely personal," he said. "It more likely has to do with guilt by association. She has had issues with some of my associates, you see. A few of them could be considered dangerous to some."

She licked her lips slowly and gazed at him a moment with her smoldering eyes. "Handsome, wealthy, and a little bit dangerous," she said appreciably; "Just what I like in a man. What's your name?"

"Cameron Hastings," he replied, bowing lightly.

"I'm Kaila, at your service, Cameron Hastings." She greeted back with a curtsey. She paused to glance around at the club. "Well, Cameron, it seems we have the place to ourselves for the moment. It must be my lucky night. Come, let's go sit in one of the booths and get to know each other." She led him to a one of the darkened private booths. "I simply _must _know more about you and your dangerous liaisons."

"It's known to certain key Kindred," Cameron found himself saying all too casually. "I've infiltrated the Setite temple. They are convinced I am working with them to ensure their ends are met, and in exchange they aid me in mine. In reality, I am working out vulnerabilities in order to drive them out of Los Angeles."

"Do you plan on killing them all?" Kaila asked, apparently excited at the thought.

"If it comes to that, I'm prepared to." Cameron replied. "After their plan to eliminate one of their own – a traitor to their so called god, that is."

"I see." Kaila said. "Tell me; do you know what this plan is, by any chance?"

"Word has it that the head priest has arranged for a ritual to raise their founder right here in this city. The idea is to use this story as bait to lure this traitor out. She won't be able to resist the opportunity to diablerize the ancient and claim all his power for herself."

"And you're right in the middle of all that." She said admiringly. "That is dangerous. You'll need some serious back up for an exit strategy, won't you?"

"I'm working on it."

"We're done here, Cameron!" Therese called from the entrance of Velvet's private room.

Cameron glanced at Therese, peeved. _Well, I have to play nice for now. She _is _the incumbent Prince of the City, after all..._

"Very good, your majesty," Cameron called back. To Kaila he said, "It's been a pleasure, Kaila. I hope to see you soon." He stood up and made his way to join Therese.

"If you need _anything, _you know where to find me." Kaila said as he parted her company.

"Getting acquainted with the new local talent, I see." Therese commented on the way back to her limousine.

"That is my job, isn't it, your majesty? To know and keep track of the city on your behalf, I believe." Cameron strained to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Therese either did not notice or opted not to respond to it. "So, how did it go with the Toreador?"

"Very well," Therese replied with an air of official optimism. "We have her support, and another office in my court is filled. Velvet Velour is now our Keeper of Elysium."

"That just leaves the Bruja." Cameron noted. "Somehow I doubt that either Damsel or the big guy will capitulate if they ever learn of your role in the destruction of their iconic hero."

"Don't worry about Tyler or Damsel." Therese reassured. "That matter is well taken care of."


	8. Behind the scenes(3)

The following takes place during chapter 12 and 13

Bertram

"Good work, girl." Bertram said to Imalia. From the sound of her Hollywood report, it sounded like the Toreador whore just provided another option to consider throwing support behind if Therese proved too unstable or screwed things up too badly. Sure, she agreed to support the Malkavian for now, and Therese went ahead and swore to appoint Velvet as Keeper of Elysium; though it appeared that Therese Vooreman missed a step in this danse macabre. She assumed that VV must have some dirt or something on the Bruja Den Mother, and that was how Damsel would be handled as far as any chance of raising opposition was concerned. In reality, Miss Velvet Velour worked the scene as only a Toreador ever could; she was on good terms with all the key players, and set herself up to be the real puppeteer.

"I hate that self-righteous skanky bitch," Imalia murmured, "but I gotta admit, she put her people skills to good use for once."

"I agree." Bertram replied. It was true; the way the new Baroness of Hollywood played the cards she was dealt was admirable. It seemed nobody really saw it coming, and by now it's doubtful anyone will much mind. That was, except for Therese; and the best part of that was that she couldn't do much about it. Without Hollywood, Santa Monica would not be able to take Praxis at all. With Velvet sending her boy toy to smooth talk Damsel into being Sheriff the majority of Court supports the Keeper. In effect, Therese is Prince in name only. Hell, it could be argued LA is a Camarilla Domain in name only. How Imalia managed to plant a spy camera in VV's private room was a mystery to Bertram, but in the end it didn't matter. "What else have you got for me?"

"Ajax says Cammie is playing ball with Therese." Imalia reported. "He's stepping back from the Praxis run and going in as a running mate. That Malkie freak agreed to appoint him Seneschal in exchange for his support."

"And the secrets we indulged him?"

"Newbie is playing the mutually assured destruction card there."

That was good. The fact the fledgling Ventrue was using the information meant he understood there would have to some form reciprocity. What made matters even better was that just before Imalia showed up, Knox came through for him, too. His news wasn't so good, but knowing it meant it could be dealt with. It appeared that Knox just so happened to be within earshot to catch that the Tremere fledgling knew more about the political climate than she should. Knox also pointed out that her powers seemed to have jumped forward exponentially over the last few nights; something wasn't right with that. Bertram instructed his ghoul to track down Ajax to look into it; he and the Tremere clearly had a certain level of respect for each other, so he should be able to get close without too much trouble.

All n all, things were looking up.

Therese

"I know you're upset, Janette," she said to her twin sister who was standing in the mirror behind her, fists clenched and pressed tightly on her hips. Her painted lips formed a pout that she had mastered when they both small children, long before mother died and father started treating Therese as a wife. Therese resumed applying her own make-up. Her first item that night was to make certain the Gangrel knew her place; not much need to look her best, but it was still business. "I know Mr. Rodriguez was your friend, but he was also a necessary sacrifice if I...if we are advance in this city. Don't worry, though. I won't hold it against you for trying to help keep him alive; in fact I appreciate your soft heart now. It will serve us both well when hard decisions need to be made."

Janette was silent. Finally she a coughing noise and turned away, her pigtails swishing almost violently as she did so. She sulked over to her own side of the room.

Therese finished her preparations by placing her trademark spectacles on for the sake of affectation. She knew full well that she no longer required them, but they served a purpose other than making sure nobody confused her with her twin; they were a useful tool in upholding the Masquerade. Even in the event of a breach, the last person any hunter would look for was somebody wearing glasses. Ready for her night out, Therese stood, told Janette to have a good night and left the room.

Beckett

Fortunately enough, a strange fog had developed around the former Giovanni stronghold of Los Angeles, which his sources told him was now the primary base of operations for the Followers of Set. This unusual weather pattern was really most helpful, Beckett found. Despite the fact the stronghold was well guarded, none of the sentries could distinguish the natural fog from his mist form, and none were auspicious enough to take note that a patch of the 'fog' was gradually advancing towards one of the rear entrances. The fog was just thick enough to serve as camouflage as he, still as mist, slipped under the entrance he chose and into the mansion's cellar.

It had been at least a decade since he last visited this city, back when it was under the control of that rather excitable young Ventrue who had briefly managed to capture the Ankaran Sarcophagus. An interesting piece, actually. There was quite the scare with it, too. Beckett was mildly amused to discover the 'big threat' it represented was nothing more than a devilishly clever trap set by Smiling Jack. Now it seemed yet another box had washed up on the shore of the City of Angels; most likely yet another desiccated corpse and nothing more, but apparently the Followers believed they had uncovered their leader. It was just too big of a possibility to pass up. He simply had to came back and find out for certain.

To avoid detection, Beckett spread himself as thin as he could and proceeded to explore the lower levels of the mansion until finally he found where the alleged Sarcophagus of Sutekh was being kept. Once he was certain he was alone in the chamber, he returned to his original form. The chamber was set up in accordance to the usual Setite parameters to hold the body of highly revered figure, minus the serpent infestation of the room, of course. On closer examination, he could also discern it was set to serve a double purpose; it was meant to be a temple sanctuary of some sort; perhaps for a specific ritual.

Deciding that part didn't matter much to him right now, Beckett turned his attention to the coffin itself. It didn't take long at all for him to discover once again that this trip to Los Angeles was fraught with disappointment. Though very well constructed, the Sarcophagus was clearly a forgery. Beckett had no idea what such an item be for, nor did he much care; it was a regrettable waste of his time and energy. He really should have bypassed this journey and made straight for the network of caverns in the Oregon gorge. There, rumor had it, was hidden some ancient manuscript that has eluded Kindred scholars for centuries.

Someone was approaching. Beckett revered to mist and spread thin just in time to avoid detection as a petite, attractive woman with raven black hair entered the chamber. She gazed carefully around the room with her green eyes as if to make sure she was alone. Briefly she scrutinized the mist that had developed on the floor, and then grinned ever so slightly.

"Well," she said out loud, as if talking to him. "This was once a Giovanni house. There are probably still some corpses under it. You, mist, _must _be gasses escaping the bodies and filtering through the floorboards." And then she shrugged as if it didn't matter.

Next she hunkered down close to the casket, paying it no mind in favor of the slab it was placed on. Originally Beckett took it to be a solid slab of granite with hieroglyphics carved into it, but evidently he was mistaken. The woman, presumably a Follower with some mid-level rank, grabbed one of engravings and pulled a section out like a drawer. She reached in and produced a clay jar. Opening the jar, she looked inside it and nodded before closing it again and setting it aside. She closed the section up, walked to the other end of the casket and repeated this process, but this time she bit her wrist and let a good portion of her vitae pour into the jar before closing everything up. She then took both jars, obfuscated, and left.

Interesting, but once again not terribly relevant, as far as Beckett could discern; since the casket turned out to be a forgery, he saw no further reason to be in this rather droll abode. While he left the way he came in, it occurred to Beckett that when he was last here, there were a number of fledglings that certainly proved entertaining. One in particular came to mind. He decided, since he was here anyway, he might as well see if any of those seven had survived their first decade of unlife; that one especially might be worthwhile to offer a new prospect. The caverns in Oregon were quite vast, after all; he might be able to use her help to excavate them.


	9. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Tyler

As Tyler DeFaulte and Damsel slept uneasily in a spooning position on the floor of their Hollowbrook Hotel suite, the sun travelled across the Los Angeles skyline. Through the course of its travels, kine by the hundreds of thousands toiled through the day; unaware of what was sleeping behind the shuttered windows as they passed by. Many of them had plenty of trouble of their own, and gave little to no consideration to the inhabitants of the restored hotel that was all but doomed to be condemned a decade ago. Whatever the case may be, the Masquerade was held for another day.

This truth gave no comfort to either of the sleeping Bruja; both of them were plagued with dreams this day. Tyler in particular was troubled by his. On previous nights over the years, Damsel had told him she often had dreams, largely about her former life. She rarely slept well. When awake, Tyler guessed that was part of the reason she was cranky in her passion. For himself, his former life was actually quite pleasant, all things considered. Sure, his family was poor, but they loved each other and looked out for each other as best they could; even with his younger siblings getting into the dope. Nightmares were a new thing for him.

He dreamed of fire; of banners burning in a field of roses which swayed in the wind and looked like blood under the flames. This was all under a cracked sky. He could hear fighting in the distance (_Thud...Thud...!)_ He charged forward, risking the flames, which never seemed to touch him. Nines Rodriguez was there in the field before him, and he struck down by a great staff. '_It's on you now, kid' _Nines said just before bursting into ashes; and ashes fell like snow. The fighting seemed no closer (_Thud...Thud...!)_ Now the ashes were knee deep, then they raised to his waist...his chest, and still the battle din was on the horizon (_Thud...Thud...!)_ He could hear Damsel's battle cry. He was neck deep in the ashes, and then he was buried in them...

"What the hell...?"

Tyler's eyes shot open as Damsel cursed and pulled away from him and got to her feet. He knew the curses weren't directed at him as she bent her naked form to pick up her clothes. Groggily he picked himself up off the floor and started collecting his own clothes. He had barely put on his boxers when Damsel asked him if he was going to get the door or not. He told her yes, grabbed the Magnum from the coffee table and paced his way to the door, looking through the peep hole before opening. Seeing it was Xavier, he stuffed the gun into the waistband of his boxers and opened the door a crack.

"Evening, X," he greeted. "It's good to see you made it home in one piece. What brings you here so early in the night?"

"Thanks, Tye," Xavier replied. "It's good to be back. We need to talk; you, me, and Damsel. Can I come in?"

Tyler looked over his shoulder and saw Damsel now had a t-shirt on; no bra, of course. The shirt had the words "RIP THE SYSTEM" stenciled on it. She was also wearing a red g-string and nothing else. He was just turning his attention back to the Toreador at the door when Xavier nudged his way past him and entered the suite.

"Sure," he said. "Come on in." Tyler wasn't sure if X caught his sarcasm or not, but knowing the Toreador Clan as he did he figured X did, and chose to ignore it.

Damsel looked up, and seeing X, she casually sat down in an easy chair, putting her bare feet up on the coffee table. She offered the Toreador a seat, as if she thought nothing of having a guest in her state of dress. X glanced appreciatively at the Bruja and took a seat on the couch. Seeing no point in raising an objection, Tyler sat on the couch as well.

"So," Tyler said, "what's the big news that couldn't wait?"

"Cassandra is probably destroyed." Xavier said. "On the plus side, I made arrangements with Ezekiel that should put an end to Cameron getting any aid from San Francisco."

Damsel smiled lightly. "Well, that's a start, anyway." She commented.

"Right," Tyler agreed, assessing Xavier. "Somehow, though, I doubt that that is why you came barging in here in such a rush."

"No, it isn't." Xavier confirmed. He paused, and then asked "how much do you know about Therese and Cameron?"

"We know that they're working together in some kind of alliance to resurrect the Camarilla in LA." Tyler replied. "That has got to be the weirdest pair of bed mates in the history of the City."

Damsel, looking like her fury was on the rise again, took her feet off the table and slowly stood up. "That is one alliance that is going to be a bitch to put a stop to." She growled, started to pace. That made Tyler nervous. When the den mother started pacing the cage like that, bad things were bound to happen soon after. "With their combined resources and connections, we might have no choice but to take up arms. At least we now know that Cammie doesn't have nearly the backing he thinks he does. We can use that."

Xavier glanced at Tyler, a slightly worried look in his eyes. Tyler stood up slowly; he thought he knew what was coming, and wasn't sure if he wanted to hold Damsel back if he was right, or toss X out the shuttered window himself.

"About that," Xavier said, choosing his words carefully. "You aren't going to like this part, but I need you to hear me out, okay? First off, when Isaac ran Hollywood, sure there was a lot of traditional ceremony stuff; mostly to do with hospitality and such. But his general policy was Libertarian at its core. VV has every intention of maintaining this policy, and that is the policy that Therese claims she intends to adopt in her Praxis."

To Tyler, that didn't sound so bad. Isaac was mostly cool about how he ran things; really all he did was make sure nobody infringed on anybody else's rights. There was the whole thing about going to him first thing when in Hollywood, but that was really just a courtesy call and made enough sense. He could see that Damsel was restraining herself-barely.

"That's rich,' she scoffed. "Do you really trust that Malkavian to stay true to her word, or to not suddenly change her mind at the flip of a switch? Give me a break!"

"You're right." X agreed. "That is a real risk we're taking here. That is why VV has agreed to support Therese on the grounds that she is named Keeper of Elysium, and that Max gets named Harpy. This way, Therese is surrounded by sound minds that can keep her in check. Granted, Cammie has slid his way into the role of Seneschal, but better that than Cammie as Prince, wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't like the idea of anyone being Prince." Damsel answered sharply. "What you're talking about is a puppet in the throne, and that can be even worse than an outright dictator; especially if she starts letting her strings get pulled by that wannabe snake and that Pyramid scheming son of a bitch!"

"Hold on a second, darling," Tyler soothed. "I think I see where this is going. Why don't we let the man finish his rap before we shoot it down?"

Damsel stopped pacing; that was something. She shot Tyler a glance that told him she wasn't sure she liked what he was playing at. That was fine; he could deal with that later. One of them had to keep a cool head.

"I'm not denying that is a gamble we're taking here." Xavier acknowledged her concern. "Neither is VV. That's why I'm here talking to you now. VV has every intention of doing everything she can to make sure that neither Strauss nor Cammie gets too much of a grip on Therese. To do that, she needs your help."

Tyler had to hand it to the Whoreadors. They really did know how to work a scene; Bert was right about that. What the old Nos bastard was wrong about was the idea he had that never put that skill to any good use. He was seeing it happen right in front of him. X was making it look so natural and spontaneous; Tyler couldn't say for sure if this was a rap that he and VV worked out or not.

"What do you mean?" Damsel asked, turning to face them slowly, arms crossed over her chest.

"To make sure there is a good balance in her Court, we will require a strong presence in one more important office. What we need, Damsel, is a strong Sherriff; someone who can make certain that both the laws of the City and the rights of the citizens are upheld in an even handed manner that emphasizes justice for all above all."

_Oh, that was good. _Tyler was especially impressed that X didn't use Presence or any powers in his delivery; Damsel would have sensed it and been offended. Xavier handled the delivery exactly the right way. He didn't tell her that she had to take the job, or even that she should. He was leaving the offer open ended after describing the job as if it was more or less what she did as Den Mother anyway. There was a chance she might take the approach as passive-aggressive; but with Damsel saying anything or nothing at all could be a gamble sometimes.

Damsel grunted laughter. "VV's got her stone on me, huh? That's real."

If nothing else, the Toreador gambit would buy the Bruja time; losing Nines was a blow that could cripple them. This would keep them afloat and relevant long enough to build up their strength, Tyler figured. Of course, he wouldn't _say _that; not now, anyway. If need be, he could use that angle to warm Damsel up to the idea later.

"You know what, darling?" he finally said. "It's sleazy as hell, but it could work out. We can take a page out of Cammie's book here and concede her Praxis if and only if she names you Sherriff. Losing Nines sets us back, sure; but there are still enough Bruja in town to make shit real hard for her if she refuses."

She shot him another glance, turned her face to X. Her expression turned to stone. "We'll think about it." She said dryly.

Tyler opened his mouth to protest; to point out how short time was. X stood up and put a hand on Tyler's shoulder to halt him.

"Thank you, Damsel." He said cordially. "That's all we ask. All we really wanted was to present an alternative to going into an urban war, especially with the Setite issue not yet resolved." And then Xavier Vega let himself out as casually as let himself in. As soon as X was out, Tyler braced himself for the debate that was about to happen. She might want to take it to the Clan as a whole; either way this was bound to be a very loud night...

Fenris

Her eyes wide open and her feet swung out and off the cot onto the floor, Fenris felt great. She only briefly wondered how that ghoul whiner was, and her recollection of how Marko placated her worries was now vague like a nearly forgotten dream. Standing up, she habitually started to stretch out kinks she didn't have in her muscles. She barely had time to wonder where that habit had come from after so many years of waking each night from the ground when she heard the lock on the unlatch. A man in doctor whites peered in momentarily and promptly stepped aside.

"There she is, miss." The man said with an accent that sounded a bit like a Jamaican mixed with British dialect. "She's just as Doctor Oxford instructed. I'm certain she's fine to leave if she so wishes."

Impeccably dressed and made up as if sculpted by the most skilled Toreador, Therese Vooreman stepped into the room. "Thank you, doctor," Therese said without taking her eyes off of Fenris. "That will be all."

The doctor left without a word. Therese waited until she was certain he was well out of earshot and quietly closed the door just to be sure. Alone in the room with the Malkavian Baroness, freshly healed from what were possibly the worst injuries she had ever encountered, Fenris suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. What was worse was that if her torpid memories were accurate, Therese was at least partially responsible for her continued existence. In a nutshell, Therese Vooreman had her by the shorthairs, and they both knew it. Fenris Fraust had a bad feeling about this.

"I'm glad to see you look well, Miss Fraust." The Baroness of Santa Monica chimed. "I do apologize for the accommodations. They're likely not quite as open aired as you would normally prefer."

"It's fine, thank you." Fenris replied cautiously. There was something in the look in Therese's eyes that was putting her off. Therese's gaze was setting every instinct in the Gangrel off into a flight mode. All she really wanted to do was get the hell out the room, out of the hospital, out of the city or even the state if at all possible. There was, however, the whole matter of finishing what she started. "The Assamite..."

"Is destroyed, I can promise you that." Therese cut her off. "It would appear that he grew wise to your ambush, managed to eliminate Skelter, and turn the ambush around on both you and Mr. Rodriguez before I could get to the theatre. Unfortunately, I'm afraid Mr. Rodriguez did not fare as well you did."

Fenris swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"By the time I arrived, the assassin was taking the last of your friend's vitae for whatever it is his Clan does with it." Therese explained. "He was so engrossed in his ritual that he did not notice me. This is how I was able to land a fatal blow upon him."

So Nines was dead; Skelter too, by the sound of it. The upshot was that the Assamite was gone, too; and since it was one of his targets that destroyed him, that meant they wouldn't be sending anymore. This was especially true since Therese was the last one on the hit list that she found; unless they counted Strauss, who was probably on the list regardless since he was a Tremere. No more Assamites coming meant there was nobody to take revenge on; other than Cammie, maybe. That meant what she had started was now almost done. There was the whole Setite matter, but thanks to her and Tyler, they were on the run, too. Hell, that was close enough; there were more than enough kindred here to set those snakes out to pasture; what was to stop her from leaving?

"Fine," she said, coming off colder than she meant to. She shouldered her way past Therese and towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Therese asked imperiously. "I'm not done with you yet, Gangrel."

Rolling her eyes with exasperation, Fenris stopped and turned to face the Malkavian Baroness.

"The Baronies of Los Angeles are in shambles." Therese continued. "The former leadership is in disarray. The only way to ensure the safety and security of our kind in this City is to consolidate the Baronies under one leader and create an organized force to maintain stability in our community."

Fenris saw where this was going. "Let me guess. Since you're the last of the Barons, that one leader should be you." She said. "Fine; do what you want. I don't care anymore. I'm done with city life. I'm leaving your precious Domain."

Therese smiled grimly as a lunatic's snicker escaped from her tightly pursed lips. "You'll do no such thing, Miss Fraust." She countered. "The only reason you still exist is because I allow it. It was I who pulled you out of the theatre last night, and I who provided the means by which your health is restored. You owe me your life, and that boon is already accounted for in advance with Harpy Strauss."

Fenris said nothing. There was nothing to say.

"You're staying here, Gangrel," Therese finished. "You will be my hound until I say you are released from your boon."

Marko

Following the ludicrously lucrative success of the 'Deb of Night' party the night before, Therese deigned to give Marko the night off. She even showed a hint of compassion by recommending he spend the evening with Janette to cheer her up.

_She still has no clue..._

While on the surface that sounded like a good idea, Marko really believed this was an ideal time to get to the bottom of what was happening with Tabby-Cat. Did she accidently tap into the Network? Was it another personality – like the twins? Have the Tremere Clan found a new magic that allows them access to the Network? Or was it something else entirely? Lately, ever since Max occupied her to interrogate the snake at the Last Round, there was something wrong with her. If Marko was going to be honest, he couldn't help but compare it to one of those demonic possession films; but that couldn't be it, could it? If anyone on the Network knew, they weren't telling. He took a bag of blood from the fridge and ate it. He looked over the room; his hammer was still in the midst of the remains of his television as evidence of his brutal murder the previous night. Before leaving, he made a note to clean that mess up. It was only a matter of time before the police started to wonder what happened to the news man. Then again, this was Santa Monica they were living in; and as Tripp often liked to point out the cops around here aren't exactly the best or brightest in the state.

By now, Therese should be well on her way to talking to Fenris. Janette often liked to say that she had Bertram dancing on her leash; it looked as if soon enough the dark daughter would have a pet, too. Both sides of the mirror seemed to working together well enough; though Marko couldn't imagine Janette taking the destruction of the Numbered Man too well. Marko didn't like it much, either, to be truthful. Therese says it was because she couldn't get there in time to save him.

_She's lying..._

Janette insists that must be true, because she took precautions to make sure the Numbered Man wouldn't get hurt too badly. They spoke very briefly on the phone after he woke.

_She's protecting her other half..._

_She has to..._

Marko decided it was likely best if he stays out of that for now. Therese was much too close to getting her way with the City as a whole and it really did seem that she was the one he'd want to stay on the good side of. He bypassed the blood bank and hospital, and hailed a cab. In the cab, he instructed the driver – not the Dark Driver, Marko noted – to take him downtown; more specifically Confession. He really had no interest in going there, but it was a location he could name without raising any suspicions; in addition there was the off chance he might be able to scare up a replacement for the Burger-Girl. It struck him as a good idea to make Vandal happy; happy ghouls are happy help, and happy help is efficient help. The Dark side of the mirror should be pleased with that.

Sadly for Vandal, tonight didn't look like it was going to be the night that the Burger Girl got replaced; Marko barely stepped into the old churchyard that ran alongside the converted club when the unmistakable stench of bleach almost overwhelmed his every sense. Slowly Marko took two more steps in, turned and scanned the gate entrance with his Auspex. As he expected, the Nosferatu Cleaning Agent was ducked neatly into a dark corner just inside the yard; obfuscated, of course. He sauntered casually to the corner.

"What brings you to lair of the Beat Priestess, Ajax?" he whispered. "Does Mr. Clean seek a bit of sanctification?"

Ajax eased out of his obfuscation. "Actually, I was kind of waiting on Tyler." He replied.

_Calming the Rabble..._

"I believe the Tidy Bear is at the Last Round, trying on the boots of the Numbered Man." Marko replied.

"I see." Ajax said ponderously. "Maybe you can help, then."

_Tongue wants hear about Tabby-Cat..._

Ajax continued. "I understand you and Tabetha had a little talk last night as you led her out of Asylum all plastered."

Marko kept silent, intent on letting the Cleaning Agent finish his thought.

"It seems she's somehow jumped way ahead of the curve in her Clan, and has access to information she should have no knowledge of. At first I thought since Tyler was the last one to work with her, he might know something; but now that I think of it, you're an insightful guy. What do you think that that is all about?"

Marko shrugged.

"Oh, I get it." Ajax said with no small degree of contempt. "Since your Baroness is pretty much set to seize Praxis for the Camarilla, you're getting a head start on playing the Cammie games. This is the part where I ask you to name your price and you quote some stupid boon before you spill. Well, screw you. I'll just find out for myself."

"Wait." Marko said just before Ajax could vanish from sight. "I honestly don't know exactly, but whatever it is it doesn't feel right. I was actually planning on looking into it myself tonight right after I do a little bit of scouting for the Blood Bank."

This time Ajax was silent, so Marko went on: "But Vandal's buffet can stick to burgers for a little longer. We should go look into Tabby Cat together."

"Fine," Ajax agreed. "The Chantry is as good a place as any to start. I'll meet you there." Then Mr. Clean vanished from sight before Marko could tell him about Tabby-Cat's eyes and veins going all black. Seeing no alternative, Marko headed for the Chantry. Once there, Marko spied the Cleaning Agent skulking in the alley on the east side of the building.

"It seems the Warlocks are getting sloppy." The Nosferatu commented. "I see a window on the second floor left wide open. Come with me. We aren't going to get easy pickings like this again, I promise you that."

Marko balked. "I don't like it." He said before the Network could add its opinion. "I think it might be a trick. I can't see the Wizard King making a mistake like that."

"You have a better idea?" Ajax retorted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Maybe knock on the front door?"

"I was thinking about it, yeah." Marko shot back, the sincerity in his vice shocking his own ears a little bit.

The Cleaning Agent sized Marko up with his lidless eyes, trying to decide if the Malkavian was being truly serious. It was as if he was thinking

_He thinks you're pranking..._

Marko might be pulling one of his pranks.

Finally he shrugged. "Fine," he said. "Suit yourself. I'm taking the window." Then he turned and went deeper into the alley.

For his part, Marko stepped up to the front door. He balled up his fist and extended his arm to knock lightly on the door and stopped just shy of actually making contact. He looked closer and saw what he thought he saw. The door was ever so slightly ajar.

That couldn't be good. Gently he pushed the door open and peered into the front hall. Everything looked the same as always. Same tacky old wallpaper, same stairs to Tabby-Cat's quarters with the same highly polished handrail. There was the same dark and slightly spooky hallway that probably led to the same maze that would take a person to the same library and eventually the same study that Strauss seemed to live in. Everything looked the same. However, nothing _felt _the same; this time, the normally sparkly feel that Marko associated with their magic was replaced with a dark, inky feel. It still felt magical, but somehow it was all _wrong... _

"I know, I know; _troubletroubletrouble_..." He chanted along with the Networks' worrier. He carefully stepped into the hall, made his way through the maze until he got to the door that would open to the study. With his Auspex he attempted to peer past the stained glass that made up the top half of the door. It seemed to be blocked somehow; with sparkles. That much, at least, seemed right enough; it made sense that the Wizard King would magically block his study from prying eyes. With a concentrated effort, he could make out two humanoid shapes; one of which appeared to be floating.

Slowly he pushed the study door open to find Tabby-Cat levitating about three feet off the floor, all scowls and black veins as she lifted the Wizard King, barely conscious, to her level without laying a hand on him. In that watery voice he heard her use at the Asylum; she said something to Strauss in a language he didn't understand.

_...and the blood of dragons...?_

And then she stopped. She turned her blackened eyes towards the door and glared right at him. The most evil grin he had ever seen curled upon her black lips as she dropped Max to the floor lowered herself to about an inch off the floor and started to glide towards him. Marko backed away. Somewhere upstairs he could hear what sounded like a struggle; which told him Ajax had run into trouble of his own. This was worse than he thought it would be; much, much worse. This was not something he could handle on his own; that much was clear. Letting out a mousy squeak, Marko turned and ran back through the maze towards the front hall. He managed to get to the place where the maze ended and the tacky wallpaper began when he heard that water-voice say without any emotion one word:

"No."

And then a complete and total blackness overwhelmed him.

He heard a loud crashing from above over his own terrified scream before he lost consciousness.

Ajax

The Nosferatu could hardly believe his luck. The Clan had been trying to infiltrate the Chantry for years. Bertram actually wanted to leave the Tremere well enough alone, but when he was alive, Gary insisted. If were still alive, Gary would be pleased. At the very least, Ajax would have bragging rights by the end of the night; even if he didn't get out with any useful information.

The window he found led into a bedroom suite of some kind, complete with kitchenette and bathroom with a shower stall. From the look of it, it was a girls' suite. He figured any Tremere would likely be all neat and organized; but the means this was done in pretty much screamed studious college girl. Ajax had no doubt that this was Tabetha's quarters. The big give-away, to his mind, was the statue mounted on a reinforced shelf on the wall to the left of the window overlooking the bed. It looked hand carved; and even though it had what was clearly meant to be an angry goblin type face, it came off as a kind of cutesy scowl. Ajax also noted the manner in which the bed was made; all the sheets tucked in tight prison style. That said something about the Warlock's training regimen.

Tabetha was the reason he was here; Knox had reported to Bert that something was amiss with her. If he was going to find any clues as to what, her own room was as good a place to start as any. He started with the bookcase; from what he could see it was a fairly standard selection of occult lore, some psycho-babble bullshit textbooks, general science, chemistry, meteorology, a couple of roadmaps, and a large tome about gargoyles. The tome was too large to carry out of here, and there wasn't really anything else Tremere specific there; odds were Max was particular about keeping those safely under lock and key. The Warlocks were really good at keeping their cards close to their chest. Among the occult books there was one small piece that looked like it focused on spirits and possession. It looked like it was bookmarked. On the off chance it might be relevant; Ajax pulled it off the shelf and tucked it under his shirt. He was about to try his hand and locating any sort of secret compartments when he thought he heard something move behind him.

Looking around, he saw nothing else in the room with him. He was almost ready to return to his attempt at searching for secrets when he realized something _was _different; the cutesy statue. When he first saw it, he could have sworn it was standing with its slightly overlong arms crossed over its chest. Now it was crouched, as if ready to leap off the shelf. There was a chance he was mistaken, but that hardly seemed likely. He didn't know anything about magical statues or gargoyles, but it seemed like this one only moved when he wasn't watching. He started to back out of the room towards the entrance into the hall, making a point to not take his eyes off the statue. As he slowly moved towards the door, it seemed the statue's eyes followed him. His back to the door, he groped for the doorknob until he found it. He turned the knob and gently pushed the door open a crack when the statue growled and leaped towards him.

Suddenly the thing wasn't so cutesy anymore. Despite its size, its weight was considerable; and despite that the thing cleared the space between them with ease, colliding into his chest with enough speed to force Ajax out of the room and onto his back on the small platform just beyond it. The statue landed on top of him and promptly wrapped both hands around his neck. Even through the crushing weight on his chest and the stone grip on his throat, Ajax was a little relieved that this granite beast apparently failed to realize that Kindred don't actually require breath. It snarled at him and shifted its weight; Ajax felt a couple of ribs buckle under the statue. Activating his Potence, Ajax shoved the thing off him as it let go with one hand and reared it back to punch him in the face. Ajax was guessing this was a Gargoyle. The Gargoyle flew back from him a few feet back into the room, and Ajax started getting to his feet. Almost before he could even brace for impact, the Gargoyle tackled him again; this time trying to bite him. They struggled on the landing, and then finally the weight distribution finally got the better of the Nosferatu and they both fell through the guardrail and down to the ground level below. As they fell, Ajax heard what might have been the most piercing shriek of distinct terror he had ever heard; and that was saying something. Though not in terror, Imalia had been known let out some real ear bleeders.

By the time they had landed, Ajax had created a degree of separation from the little gargoyle. The thing was crouched and ready to pounce; behind it, he could see Tabetha standing...no..._floating... _above an incapacitated Marko; her eyes completely black and what looked like black veins of inky blood rippling all over her skin. This time Ajax was more than ready when her baby gargoyle pounced for another tackle. Potence at his maximum, he wound up and nailed it square in the jaw with a haymaker of an uppercut; from the feel of it, he probably broke every bone in his hand doing it, but baby gargoyle went up, smashed into the ceiling, and came crashing down. It wasn't broken, but it had a very clear network of cracks all through it; evidently enough to make it stop moving for now.

"Cervantes!" the Tremere girl shouted out, her skin and eyes clearing up instantly as she dropped firmly to her feet. The look of genuine concern and even worry – like a person might have when they see a pet get hurt – was _almost _enough to make Ajax feel bad for busting baby gargoyle up. From the feel of his right arm, though; it was more than just his hand that got broken, it felt more like the damage extended through the forearm nearly to the elbow. With that in mind, he figured their almost bad feelings for each other were pretty close to mutual.

Tabetha didn't seem interested in Ajax at all. In fact it was like she didn't even see him as she started to rush towards her pet statue. She was just about to crouch closer to it to assess the damage when a small bolt of light flashed across the hall and struck her; putting out her lights as well. Ajax looked towards the direction from whence the bolt came and saw Max just as he crumpled to the floor between where he was standing and where Marko was laid out.

Sending Blood to his arm to repair the damage he inflicted on himself taking the baby gargoyle out, Ajax then attempted to do a triage assessment on the three bodies around him. His Paramedic training was actually coming in handy for once. Then a thought occurred to him; while he was making up his mind as to who to help first, maybe he could just take a little peak around the Tremere Chantry...

Xavier

As he stepped into Vesuvius, Xavier Vega felt pretty good about his work with the Bruja at the Hollowbrook earlier that evening. As both he and VV anticipated, Damsel was reluctant, but Tyler seemed willing to play ball. Since both he and Tye were part of the neonate grouping that some of the Kindred in the city liked to dub the 'super seven', X was very well aware that Tyler was actually pretty cool headed for a Bruja; with Rodriguez destroyed, he might well be _the _cool head of the Rabble. The exception, of course, was Jack; but then Jack was Jack, and Jack pretty much did as he pleased. Even after the big run – around set up he pulled ten years ago to ensure LaCroix would be blown sky high in his tower, X liked Jack well enough. But he didn't really trust him; you never _really _knew what side of anything old Smiling Jack would be on. That was evident in how he got him to go to San Francisco and nearly get toasted by either the Setites or Prince Ezekiel himself. All in all, Tyler was the one to make the appeal to. True, Damsel was Den Mother and now pretty much the leader of the Bruja Clan, but it was clear to Xavier that Tyler, the cool head, would be the playmaker. So he spoke _at _Damsel, but was speaking _to _Tyler. The big guy got it, too.

It vaguely occurred to X that perhaps Ezekiel Hastings understood Los Angeles better than he thought; or maybe it was just experience in dealing with Kindred affairs. Ezekiel gave his word he would not assist Cameron in his campaign; and this was because he seemed to think Velvet Velour was going to take a run at Praxis herself. In a sense, old Ezekiel was dead right. If VV played this out right, she could end up Prince in everything but name; maybe even officially by name if Therese proved too batty for the job.

Xavier contemplated slipping into the Last Round to see how the Clan would work things out, but decided against it; that place was rowdy at the best of times, and by now it could very well be close to going into an all out Rant. With his humanity as fragile as it already was, the last thing Xavier needed was to be around that kind of violence. There was a reason VV insisted he come right back after talking to them, and she was right. Coming back to Vesuvius was the right thing to do; he would let VV know how well things went with his talk, and then get back to the Pit to handle matters there. He had that promising act from Vancouver playing tomorrow night. They should be showing up tonight, so he would want to be there to handle everything himself. This kind of thing; normal, human-like activity was always very helpful he found. Part of it, he believed, was the interaction with the kine. But first, he had to let VV know that things were on track.

He crossed the floor, barely even noticing the crowd or the dancer on the stage, and headed straight for his lovers' private room. Much to his surprise she was fully dressed; and quite conservatively to boot. He certainly wasn't complaining; Velvet Velour could make any outfit look fabulous.

"Oh good, you're back," she said, a hint of worry in her voice. She strode towards him smartly and took his hand as she led him right back out again. "We have to go downtown; right now."

Before Xavier could protest or even begin to ask what the matter was, he found himself with his lover back in the parking lot, en route to his car.

"So where exactly are we going?" he asked as he opened the passenger door for her.

"The Chantry," she replied, uncharacteristically dry in her tones. "Something has happened to Max."

"How do you know that?"

She tapped her temple lightly. "He called me." She explained. "He sounded strained or hurt, and then the connection just broke off. I've not been able to retrieve it."

"Okay, then," he complied, shutting the door and working his way around the car and into the driver seat. He had no idea Max meant so much to her; he was aware they had some kind of flirtation once upon a time, but right now Velvet seemed on the verge of outright panic. As he drove, VV managed to compose herself.

"I...know you are wondering why Max is so...important to me." She purred. "You don't need to worry. Nobody will ever replace...you. There was a spark with Max and me...once. But that was long ago. Years ago, Max was one of those who rescued Charity and I... from the Setites. We got close. We were both young... then. I was in a dark place, and Max...brought me out of it."

Velvet stopped her account there. Xavier didn't need her to finish unless she needed to finish; he was pretty sure he knew the rest: Two Neonates in love that drifted apart seemed most likely. VV fell in with Isaac, probably; and though she still adored Max, Isaac could match her passion in ways Max never could. X began to speculate that was part of the reason behind the Regent's cold, analytical approach to unlife; a broken hard can be hard to deal with. Sometimes, Xavier knew, when we are in critical situations our thoughts go to unexpected places. That might be why he called to her in Auspex when under apparent duress. That was made even more likely with VV so recently in his thoughts after recent dealings with each other.

They rode in silence for a bit, and Velvet finally relaxed a little more.

"He's alright." She said, clearly relieved. "There's still trouble at the Chantry, but Max is well."

"Well, that's good." He said eyes on the road. "I'm glad your friend isn't hurt."

"Thank you..." she said to him. He could feel her eyes on him. "Thank you for indulging me so. You're...better than I deserve."

Xavier said nothing. All the things he was thinking of saying to counter her argument sounded trite and dramatic in his head, even if they were genuine. Finally, they arrived at the parking garage nearest the Chantry. He parked, and they rushed to their final destination.

Tabetha

Dumbfounded, Tabetha stood in the hall, alternating her gaze between Marko and Cervantes; both of whom she considered her best friends nearly destroyed on either side of her, at her feet. Peripherally, she was aware of Master Strauss and Ajax; the Nosferatu heeding the Tremere's wishes to stand aside and her Mentor setting some ritual she didn't yet know up. He said he would need two, possibly three more with a talent for Auspex to perform this particular ritual. He didn't look well.

Cervantes was a mess of cracked stone. She gathered that was because Ajax had hit him. She didn't blame the Nosferatu. He was defending himself at the time; the fact that her Gargoyle was merely defending her and the Chantry was beside the point. Marko was another story altogether; he was still n one piece, but black veins were popping up everywhere on his skin, and he was shivering like a human with chill. He was also muttering something incomprehensible. This was her fault; she knew that. She didn't remember it; or not like a memory or even like a dream. It was more like when Master Strauss occupied her temporarily to interrogate that Setite, but it wasn't Max this time; it was someone else entirely. No, that wasn't right; it was some_thing _else entirely. Whatever it was, she couldn't control it, and now it had managed to get to Marko, too.

"What's wrong with us, Master?" she finally managed to ask. "Is it a virus?"

Strauss paused in his activity and regarded her thoughtfully. "I wish it were that simple, my apprentice." He said. "If it were, then it would be simply a matter of quarantine to ensure it doesn't spread. However, with the unpredictable nature of the Malkavian psychology, matters have gone from bad to much worse."

Ajax was standing aside, not saying a word. From his body language, Tabetha was able to guess that he probably figured this was some in-Clan thing that even the Nosferatu knew nothing of. In a sense, he was right; this whole thing started after her vision of the cocoon.

The front door swung open. Velvet, dressed in an uncharacteristically yet somehow very becoming manner, steeped into the hall followed by X. Velvet gasped when she saw the sorry state that Master Strauss was in; X was almost instantly fixated on Marko's writhing and muttering.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Miss Velour..."

"Please, Max," Velvet interrupted, "its VV, or if you must...Velvet."

"...I appreciate your expediency. As you can see, our Malkavian friend is in considerable distress." Strauss indicated towards Marko. "That dialect he is muttering in doesn't translate directly into any known language that is currently in any practical; but roughly describes a sort of drowning of the soul. From what I can observe he's in very deep."

"Drowning?" X asked. He looked like he was recalling something familiar to him; not as if trying to remember, but more like confirming if his memory and this reality matched. "Can you pull him out of this state?"

_They can try; _a thought that wasn't hers came to her. _Oh yes, they can; they might even succeed. It won't change a thing, except make him useful to me. _

"That is what I intend to find out, Neonate." Master Strauss replied dryly. "For this attempt, I will need the assistance of you two." He hesitated, glanced at Tabetha. "We will need you in on this too, my apprentice. Initially I believed your presence might worsen things because...Marko is it? I thought he might resist. I have since re-considered."

Tabetha stepped forward.

"Okay," she said reluctantly. "May I ask why?"

"Whatever has hold of him came from you." He replied, showing a hint of impatience. "If it is what I believe it might be, then it may be able to attack and spread itself through Auspex as well as physically. Since it is evidently already present in you, we might be able to use you to fool it into thinking we are just part of it."

"Like a cloaking device." She confirmed. What she really wanted was to ask was how they were going to get it out of her when this is all said and done.

"Very good, my apprentice;" Strauss said vocally. _I don't know if this will work; it may even be fatal. You are much too important to risk that._ He completed the thought, answering her full question. She didn't like the idea of this operation possibly killing Marko; but doing something had to be better than doing nothing.

Master Strauss gathered the three of them around Marko; himself being the fourth. They each stood around the Malkavian; Max at his feet, Tabetha at his head, and each Toreador on either side as he continued to writhe and mutter.

"Each of us are going to establish a telepathic link with each other, and then collectively attempt to include Marko into that link." He explained. "Tabetha, you will be the first to enter – to be the cloak, as you put it – and I will serve as a tether to the conscious world as you, Miss Velour and Xavier, attempt to locate and retrieve what can be retrieved of the Malkavians' core psyche. As we will all be connected, I will know when you have him, and then I shall pull you all out of his distress."

Xavier nodded. "It's kind of like a telepathic party line." He said. That sounded like a close enough comparison to Tabetha; and though the analogy seemed to throw Master Strauss for a moment, he waved it off as he sometimes did with her when she made references which were a little too modern for him. Most of the time, he was able to grasp such things on some level; like a Baby-Boomer parent is able to grasp a Millennial reference, and then just not bother to point out how silly it seemed to him. This one, she surmised, he likely missed because the situation was urgent and he was far from being at his best. Velvet was usually much better at keeping up with popular language trends; Tabetha suspected she may have even played a hand in devising some of lingo in the City of Angels. Over the last ten years, it was evident to her that the Toreador Clan often does either follow trends very well, or has a way of setting them in the first place.

"Are you all ready?" Master Strauss checked. They all murmured that they were. "Good; then let us begin..."

Cameron

As the night wore on, Cameron Hastings found his thoughts drifting more and more frequently to thoughts of Kaila. In all honesty, he found himself desiring her in ways he'd thought he forgotten he could desire anyone; certainly he'd toyed with the idea of having a tryst with Janette, but then again according Mercurio, there were plenty of folks that had conquered that territory. With Kaila it was different. It wasn't just an attraction; it was a _desire. _There was denying she was attractive, but it was more than that. He _wanted_ her.

Then again, she _was _a Toreador. It was well known that the Clan of the Rose was renowned for their skills at seduction and the use of Presence towards that end; that could be what was happening. It had to be what was happening.

He tried to convince himself his preoccupation with her was entirely a matter of his own self interest; that he was merely assessing her to determine if she was an asset or a liability. That was, in part, a concept based in fact. It was true that she was new in the city, but that might add to her being an asset. She was a Toreador after all; and that meant he could gain support from the Rose through her. Being new to the city meant she had yet had a chance to develop any biases that many of the Kindred who were not either Ventrue or Tremere had. Access to and support from the Toreador would mean he had an in with all but the Bruja clan; and the Gangrels, of course, but then there were so few of them in the city it was unlikely they would even qualify to have representation in the Primogen Council. As far as that was concerned, he had in mind to push for them to have representation anyway, should they want it. They were, after all, one of the Seven Pillars of the Ivory Tower. That kind of support for the Nomads should gain not just their support in return, but their undying loyalty.

_There's a concept to bounce off the Board; and Kaila, Max, and Tabetha..._

He was doing it again. Cursing himself quietly, he wondered just how she got such a firm grip on him so quickly. She must be very powerful indeed. She may even be able to challenge VV for her position in the court. Cameron would not be upset if that happened.

"Mr. Hastings?" the concierge called to him though the intercom with that horrid nasally voice of his; it wasn't the first time Cameron contemplated firing him because of his voice, and likely will not be the last. The only problem was that despite his voice, he was very good at his job. Replacing him would be a mistake.

"Yes?" Cameron answered.

"A package has come for you, sir. It's sitting here on the front desk." Nasal boy announced. "It's designated to you personally."

"What package?" Cameron asked.

"It's a box, sir, wrapped like a Birthday present, and a tag with your name on it." Nasal replied. "I've scanned it already, and there doesn't appear to be any suspicious or dangerous materials to it. There does appear to be something organic inside, though. Shall I have it sent up?"

Cameron doubted even Jack could create a bomb that could slip past his scanning equipment.

"Yes, please."

"Very good, sir; I will send it up right away." The concierge confirmed. "Oh, and sir I had no idea it was your birthday. I wish you all the best."

"Thank you," Cameron said. It wasn't his birthday, but it was likely best to play along. "Just one thing about that; I don't want anybody else knowing about it. Do you understand?"

"I understand completely. I will have the package sent up discretely."

"Thank you." Cameron cut the connection to the intercom. As he waited for this package, the thought crossed his mind briefly to consider the concierge as a possible applicant for the job of manager. He was nowhere near as attractive as Heather was, but he did know the hotel better than anyone else on his staff, and as a result has proven himself to be much more of an asset than a liability. It would be no problem at all to contact Mercurio and let him know he no longer required a replacement for Heather; that would likely prove to something of a relief for the old ghoul. _If not for that incessant voice of his..._

Of course, if he gave him the promotion, he could arrange for all contact to be done in some form of text or another; he could say it would be to ensure documentation of all activities pertaining to the job was in place at all times. Now that was something to consider; it would solve two problems simultaneously.

There was a knock on the door; more of a tapping, really, as if from someone making an effort to avoid being intrusive. Cameron bid the woman with the package come in. The door opened with a whisper, and she entered, carrying the package carefully so as to not disturb the contents inside.

"Just bring it in and place it on my desk. Thank you." Cameron instructed. The woman murmured her agreement and gently placed the package on his desk. "This package has been scanned and declared safe, yes?" He asked for verification.

"Yes, sir," she assured him. "Ezra checked it personally."

"Excellent," Cameron nodded. Satisfied, he dismissed her. She left, speaking into her Bluetooth device; inquiring what the occasion was for him to be receiving a gift. Cameron could make out Ezra's nauseating voice on the other end advising her plainly that that was none of her concern. She hurriedly conceded that Ezra was right, and she understood perfectly. Ezra handled that very well; he was direct and to the point, he upheld the discretion that Cameron wanted, and demonstrated a clear authority over the other employees. He would have to give the idea of promoting Ezra from the front desk to the office desk some serious consideration.

At the moment, he had the issue of this mysterious package to contend with. It really did look like a birthday present; the way it was wrapped. Whomever it from either had exquisite skills or knew somebody who did; the wrap job flawless. The anonymous gift-bearer also had exceptional taste; the wrapping was a simple shade of lavender, and was complimented with a plain gold ribbon tied into a perfect bow. Just by looking at it he could tell that it wasn't one of those awful stick on bows, either; the ribbon and the bow were one piece. He pulled at the tail of the ribbon to undo it, and the bow fell away, the ribbon falling with it. The package beneath it showed that the wrapping was not taped in place, but all ends of the paper met at the exact centre of the top, held in place with a single dollop of white wax.

Taking the ankh-shaped letter opener he procured from the now destroyed Sebastian LaCroix off his desk; he pried the wax seal off. His mind drifted briefly to that night ten years ago; the night he used this very letter opener to bring the so-called Prince of Los Angeles to his knees. The paper unfolded with almost no effort on his part to reveal the box it covered. It was a black box; waxed cardboard. The lid of the box was perfectly flush with the rest it so that one could only barely discern where it lifted. Setting the letter opener down, he opened the box. It was filled with tissue paper; lavender and gold. He started to remove the paper when he came upon an envelope that was gold in color, the flap sealed again with wax; this time the wax was lavender, and had a print of a rose embedded upon it.

_It appears I have an admirer among the Toreador. _

Again he picked up the letter opener and gently removed the seal, taking care to set it aside. He put the letter opener down, opened the envelope and pulled a card out. Opening the card, he read the script inside:

Cameron:

Congratulations on your new office in the City! I thought this might be a fitting gift; I have no doubt you will find it helpful and be able to put it to the proper use. Much love and affection,

K.

The night just brightened even more for Cameron Hastings. The gift was from Kaila; it had to be! That told the Ventrue that his feelings were not one way. Not only was he to be Seneschal of a Major American metropolis, but he would soon have someone to share his reign over the city as Prince with once that Malkavian psychopath went completely over the edge. Come to think of it, Cameron started to wonder if perhaps Janette could be persuaded to take lead in their little 'dance around the mirror'. This way, Therese would be absent – effectively – and the Seneschal would have to step up on her behalf; he would then be Prince in all but name...

Inside the box was a clay jar of a very distinct design he remembered very well. He would recognize that design with hieroglyphics on it for the rest of his unlife; he was certain of that. It was of the same design that that Setite bastard Alejandro was holding over his head at this very moment. That was the one thing keeping his victory from being complete. This thought darkened his mood significantly; it was starting to look like Kaila wasn't the type of friend he thought, after all. This was a mockery of his current situation; she may very well be a Toreador, but she was in bed with those snakes. It seemed as if she was sent to be his handler.

_Unless..._

He took the jar out of the box and set it on the desk. He recalled Ezra said something about there being something organic inside the package. A heart, even one that has been still for ten years, was still organic. With an agonizing mix of apprehension and anticipation, he took the top off the jar and looked inside. There it was; a heart. He reached into the jar and took it out. While it was enough to brighten his mood up some, he was also mildly disappointed; he imagined he would feel some kind of connection to his own heart, but he didn't. How could he be sure this was genuine? He placed the heart back in the jar, replaced the lid, and moved the jar to a nearby bookshelf. He supposed that it would be best to err on the side of caution and hide this gift somewhere other than in plain sight; though at the moment he really had no idea where. A safety deposit box might work, or in a safe with Mercurio. Mercurio would guard it with his life if Cameron told him to.

The intercom buzzed again.

"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, Mr. Hastings," Ezra whined through the speaker. "But a party of two are down here for you; a Miss Vooreman and a Miss Fraust."

That struck Cameron as an odd combination. The only way he could see that working out is if Therese –or perhaps it was Janette tonight – had something over Fenris as well. He thought about asking Ezra which of the Vooreman sisters it was, but decided he would find out soon enough. He glanced at the jar. Having it there on the bookshelf for anyone to grab made him uneasy.

"That's fine, Ezra," he replied; he could almost feel the concierge begin to glow at the use of his first name. "I'll be right down." Before Ezra could reply, Cameron broke the intercom connection. He quickly took the jar off the bookshelf and placed it into a small safe in the floor under his desk. Feeling a little safer, he went downstairs to see what his waiting callers wanted of him this time.


	10. Behind the scenes(again)

The following takes place between chapters 14 and 15

Strauss

It was disturbing and pleasing at the same time; being this close to Miss Velour and actually working with her again. The truly disturbing part was the fact it was so pleasing. It was taking nearly every reserve of will he had left not to start thinking of her as Velvet; to not allow himself even an iota of emotional attachment. As far s he could discern, she was not using any of her formidable skills in Presence.

But now was not the time to ponder such things. Fortunately, her neonate Clansman was situated both physically and telepathically between her and him. That should serve as enough of a buffer to keep him from getting too lost in his own musings.

"If you will; begin the journey, my apprentice." He instructed Tabetha. She had to go in first, to act as cover for essence that their Clan Founder and Lord of the House had imbued both her and the neonate Malkavian with. Tabetha steeled herself and 'dove' in. Miss Velour followed, and then the Toreador Neonate –Xavier, Strauss believed his name was. Strauss himself acted as an anchor in the mundane world outside the Malkavians mind; still linked to the others, but not where they were. It was comparable to being on the shore while a rescue team went into the sea for a rescue, but are tethered to the one on the shore. The process had begun...

Damsel

"I'll play along with this stupid game because the rest of the Bruja want to – for now." Damsel told Tyler as the Clan began to wander out of the Last Round. "But I don't have to like it."

"Look, Damsel," Tyler said, "I know it feels like a loss right now, but it isn't. Think of it as a strategic step back to gain better leverage if we need it. Besides, once you're Sherriff, you call the shots on the street and can name your own deputies."

With an effort, Damsel kept her temper; she knew Tye meant well. There was a time when she was about his age she might have made the same mistake in her thinking. The problem is that the Cammies are real pricks about their offices, and sneaky bastards about words and semantics and all that crap in their courts. The plan could work, but it would be real dicey; they'd all have to be on their toes or this could really ugly really fast. She decided the best thing right now was to change the subject.

"Fine, then;" she said, as if that ended that topic of discussion. "Our first order of business is those damned sand snakes. We know they're setting a trap, but the questions we have to get answers for are who is it being set for, and why. My bet is that it's for anyone stupid enough to fall into it, and that it's so they can have a sacrifice when they try to raise their Founder."

"I'm afraid you'd likely lose that bet." A voice rang out from the entrance of the Last Round. Damsel and Tyler both snapped their attention towards the source of the voice and saw Beckett's form darkening the doorway. "Well, the latter part of it, anyway; you see, the sarcophagus in the Setite stronghold is undeniably a forgery – albeit a convincing one to the untrained eye."

"You mean you've seen it?" Tyler asked.

"Indeed I have, neonate," Beckett replied, his voice dripping with sardonic tones. "I'm relieved to see your grasp of the readily apparent has not diminished since last we met. I was actually on my way to Oregon when I got word of it being here, and since Los Angeles was on my route anyway, I thought I should take a look for myself. Imagine my disappointment."

Gritting her teeth at Beckett's pompous arrogance, Damsel retorted. "Okay, Beckett, we get it. You're probably smarter than both of us combined. How about you enlighten us and tell us what you think this so called trap is about?"

"I didn't even know there was a trap until just now," Beckett chuckled. "I suppose you could just knock on their door and ask them; I understand the Followers of Set are all too willing to share that sort of thing for the right price. Or, if you had access to it, you could consult the Red List and see who they might be interested in capturing."

Raising an eyebrow, Tyler asked; "what's the Red List."

"It's the Camarilla answer to the Ten Most Wanted list." Damsel answered, feeling her patience wear very thin. "Do you remember when LaCroix started the blood hunt? It's like that to the tenth power. The Camarilla has a List of the worst Kindred Criminals on the planet. They call it the Red List."

"That's accurate enough." Beckett added. "Now; who do you suppose is reviled enough to be on a hit list for both the Camarilla and the Followers of Set?"

After thinking about it a minute, Damsel could only think of one name. But that wasn't possible. If that bitch was in town she'd know it. Then again, that ancient snake has eluded both camps since almost before time itself, so maybe not...

Beckett looked at Tyler. "I seem to recall there being six more of you a decade ago." He said. "Are those others still here as well?"

"Yes," Tyler answered.

"Wonderful; I was hoping to find of you. As I said, I was on my way to Oregon, and there was one of you that I am certain would be fascinated with the dig I am planning there. I was hoping to invite her."

Tabetha was the only one of the newbies that came close to being able to keep up with Beckett's intellect, so Damsel was sure he meant her. By now, that Tremere witch was so deeply ingrained their Clan she wouldn't leave it even if Strauss would allow it.

"Good luck with that." She said dryly.

Therese

As she and Fenris awaited the Ventrue to come down from his lofty office in his fancy hotel, Therese Vooreman caught a glimpse of Janette in one of the mirrors; grinning at her in her usual taunting manner. _Why wasn't she with Marko? _

More than a little annoyed, Therese shot her glare in the direction that should have been the source of the reflection only to find the space where Janette should have been standing vacant. That dirty, backstabbing whore was up t one of her ridiculous games again, clearly. She must have ducked behind one of the structure's pillars or obfuscated at the last possible moment. She would have gone to oust her errant little sister out of hiding and straighten her out, but there wasn't any time. Janette had, as always, picked the most inopportune time to start acting up and lashing out.

"What's wrong?" The Gangrel asked. While Therese didn't much care for the lack of conviction in her voice, the loyalty and understanding of her position in Court was noted and sufficient for now.

"It's my sister," Therese explained. "She has a habit of sabotaging my efforts to what is best for the both of us, and always picks the worst possible times to do so. As I thought I just saw her, I imagine she's getting ready for some of her typical mischief even as we speak."

"Do you want me to go track her down and keep her out of trouble?" The Gangrel asked; this time with a little more interest. Therese realized something about her new Gangrel pet; she was activity driven. She was the type who was at best when she actually doing something. Knowing that was useful; it also meant that this pet was bound to be an even more valuable asset than anticipated. Therese originally wanted to show off her newest addition to her Court but this might prove even better; now she could not only reveal the addition but demonstrate her authority at the same time.

"That's a very good idea." Therese agreed just as the elevator opened and the Ventrue Cameron Hastings stepped out. "Please, do so now."

The Gangrel gave a curt, if insincere, bow before leaving in the direction that Therese believed Janette to be going.

"What was that all about, Highness?" Cameron asked her reverently enough as he observed the Gangrel walk away. "Of course I only ask so I can serve you better in my role as Seneschal."

"It's Janette," Therese said. "It seems she's getting up to her old mischief again. As Fenris has agreed to work in our Court as a sort of Trouble-shooter, I have assigned her with the task of tracking my sister down and keeping her out of trouble to begin with."

Cameron grinned. "Very good, highness," he said; there was something about that grin that Therese didn't like very much. "So what is the order of business tonight?"

"We have much to discuss, you and me," Therese replied. "Preferably someplace more private than this; and then we have to arrange a meeting first with those who have been offered Court positions. After that, we can all discuss the ideal location and conditions under which we can call a Gathering."

Cameron's eyes sparkled. "I have just the place, if you'd like to see it." He said, continuing before Therese could really respond. "Shall we take your car or mine?"

Jack

If he wasn't there at the Last Round to witness it with his eyes and ears, he wouldn't have believed it. But he was there, and it was all true. The LA Bruja was finally selling out to the Camarilla. To be fair, Damsel held out s long as she could, but even she bought into the whole 'play along until we see our chance to make a move' line of BS eventually. For his own part, Jack couldn't stand by and watch all of the Movements' hard work go down the toilet like this; he couldn't and he wouldn't.

The kind of move the kid was going for here sounded right and looked all good on paper, but Jack had been around a long time, and so he knew better. The problem was that paper and trickery like that was the Camarilla game. They suck you in one way or another, you think that you can set yourself up with an out, but before you know that way out is closed off and you're stuck in their pile and the only way out is to fight.

Jack hailed a cab, got in and barked at the driver to take him to Sacramento. He had something there that might be able to help knock this jam out of the way of the very real progress the Anarchs were making here in LA.


	11. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Tyler

Tyler DeFaulte was starting to have doubts; not about Beckett's claim that the box the Setites had was a fake – the old Gangrel really had no reason to lie about that. He was starting to doubt if he called the right play. The way Jack walked out of the Last Round rattled him some; then again, Jack had a habit of screwing with people's lives; as was made clearly evident to all of the 'super seven' a decade ago. Granted, he probably believed it was for the good, but still...

He wondered just how well Jack and that Dark Driver knew each other; were they in collusion together on something bigger than all of this? The Driver put it in his head to try and re-establish Clan Bruja as a pillar of the Ivory Tower, but at the moment Tyler was wondering if maybe Jack's right that they are better off without the Cammies- they meaning Kindred as a whole – and that everyone would be better off the Ivory Tower just collapsed completely. One thing he was sure of; Nines would not be part of this plan at all.

_Nines Rodriguez is dead! _

Knowing that, this plan that Tyler was forming very much on the fly felt a little like he was dishonoring everything that Nines stood for; everything that he represented and taught what was 'the real story'. In part Tyler really did believe he was thinking about what was truly best for the Clan in the long run, but his feelings and passion told him otherwise.

"But none of that matters, anyway," Damsel said. For a second Tyler thought the Den Mother suddenly developed some advanced Auspex, but then realized she was actually talking to Beckett more than anyone else. "What matters right now is evicting those damned snakes from town."

"What an uncommon approach," Beckett commented. "Normally most domains would rather have the Followers in sight so as to keep watch over them."

"Well, this ain't most domains." Damsel said directly. "I don't give a rats ass about their trap or who they are trying to capture or why. I just want them out of my city."

Before Beckett could say another word, Tyler raised a shushing finger. It seemed Beckett both understood and complied. First thing, it wasn't really anybodies city yet. Second, the most likely candidate for Praxis looked like it was going to Therese. Third, hearing Damsel talk like that only added to Tyler's concern that maybe Jack was right.

"In principle I agree with you, darling," Tyler said. "And as Sheriff that is your prerogative. I just think we would be better off making sure the Court endorses this move."

"Fine; so we go to Vesuvius and start this ball rolling."

Fenris

One thing was clear; Janette was not in the Cameron Arms Hotel. There was not even a hint of her scent anywhere in the building. One thing that had to be said about that Ventrue son of a bitch; he kept a clean house. It seemed to Fenris that her only option now was to go back to Therese and report she lost her sister.

"Dammit;" she muttered, barely audible. To make matters worse for her, it was evident that Cameron had some other place to place set up their little powwow; she couldn't get a clear scent on either of them, neither. There was a slight hint of sanitizer – like lemon gin – that she suspected was embedded in the place because Cameron owned it. It seemed almost as if he knew his own scent and made sure his staff used it too. Therese and Janette smelled alike, so there was the faintest hint of peppermint in the air, but that simply led to the parking lot. Her car was still there, so they likely too one of Cameron's. She never understood why anyone would need more than one vehicle; it seemed so impractical. A grin crossed lips as she thought of more than one or two 'compensation' jokes.

In all seriousness, though, the situation basically left her screwed. She could only guess where they would go; one option was the Last Round to see if Damsel accepted the role Therese had in mind for her. Fenris had to admit, there was a part of her that was expecting, if not hoping that Damsel would flip Therese off; maybe grab her by that stupid ponytail and swing her into the ocean. The other option that made sense was Vesuvius. Vesuvius made more sense than the Last Round, but Last Round was closer. Since she would have to check both, she opted to head for what was sometimes referred to as 'Anarch HQ' first.

The route she chose took her past the Tremere Chantry. On the outside it appeared as pretty much a run-down building in a run-down part of town. Inside, she knew, it was another story entirely. Everything seemed quiet, but as the saying goes; the nose knows. Normally there was a subtle frankincense smell, but lately there was something else; something like tar or ink, Fenris couldn't quite identify it. Whatever it was, it was wrong. Now, to make it even more fun, it was apparent Ajax was around here recently; his bleach stink was in the air. Fenris hesitated and thought about checking out what might be going on inside the Chantry, and then decided against it. While it was possible the Tremere activity may be of interest to the incumbent Prince, but the last thing Fenris needed or wanted was more crap on her plate. She carried on to the Last Round.

The Last Round was quiet; no music playing and the place appeared vacant. It still reeked as it always did, so that hadn't changed. She thought perhaps this was some kind of silent vigil for Nines. Maybe everyone was upstairs.

"Hello?" she called out as she climbed the stairs.

"Well, hello there, young one." A voice called back. It was a voice that Fenris never thought she'd hear again. It was Beckett. The last time she heard or saw him was shortly after she rescued that archeologist from the Society of Leopold and pretty much wasted that fanatic Bach. She quickened her pace and saw that indeed Beckett was upstairs. "I am genuinely glad to see you have survived your first decade."

It was all Fenris could do to refrain from running into Beckett's arms; she doubted the old Gangrel would take to that sort of thing anyway. Figuring that didn't really change how well it was to see the old fossil-digger, though. There was also a part of her that kind of wanted to slap him, though; mainly that was out of frustration at knowing he was right to basically shun all the factions and go off to do his own thing. She understood exactly what he was talking about now, and yet there was nothing she could do about it; nothing honorable, anyway.

"Yeah, it's good to see you, too." She replied, trying to sound casual and cool. "So where'd everybody take off to?"

A smug grin touched the corners of Beckett's lips; which told Fenris she wasn't fooling him in the least. "Some other watering hole; I believe they called it Vesuvius." The manner he said this sounded almost like an inquiry. "It sounded like some kind of intense political and legal intrigue was going on there. I'm sure it's really quite fascinating." His voice was soaked in sarcasm. "If you're into that sort of thing," he concluded.

"I know the place." She replied. "It's fine if you like your senses assaulted with pheromones; but it is cleaner than this dump."

"That sounds promising." Beckett quipped. "I can tell you're thrilled with prospect of going there and diving into the debate."

"No, I'm not." She shot back, ignoring his sarcastic tone. "But as it stands now I'm caught up in it, and I won't leave my business here unfinished."

Beckett's expression changed. He looked genuinely impressed and disappointed at the same time. "That's a pity," he said. "I was going to invite you on an expedition into the Oregon Gorge. "So it's off to Vesuvius for you, then?"

"I'm afraid so."

"It won't do you much good going there, sugar-bear." A voice from the stairs chimed in. Fenris didn't need to turn around to see who it was; that bathed in bleach odor was unmistakable. "Good evening, Beckett," he continued, "I heard you were in town. Now I know it's true." This time, Fenris did turn around to look Ajax in the face; as unpleasant as that was. She was trying to decide if the Nosferatu was bluffing. With his unblinking eyes and permanent grin he was hard to read.

"So where is everybody?" She asked.

"Well, I guess Tye and Damsel are at Vesuvius," Ajax answered, "but most of the gang is at the Tremere Chantry; except for Cameron, that is. Marko's hurt bad, and now X, Tabetha, VV and Strauss are trying to help him."

"What happened?"

Ajax shrugged. "I'm not sure exactly. A chunk of rock freaked out and started attacking me, and Tabetha went all Carrie White. She took out Marko and damn near took out Strauss, too."

She couldn't determine if Ajax was being completely honest or not. If she had to guess, she'd say not; over the past decade she learned that the Nosferatu Clan give nothing for free. The best you could hope for was maybe a preview of what they have to offer, and even then it's likely to serve their own ends in some way. Now she had a choice t make: Go to Vesuvius to inform the soon to be Sheriff and come all the way back t deal with a possible threat, or go and check out the Chantry to give the Court a more thorough report.

"Come on," she said to Ajax. "Show me the Chantry." She started down the stairs, paused, and said to Beckett: "If you're still around later, we'll talk more."

"That does sound worth staying for..." she heard him say with what sounded like sincerity as she descended the steps with Ajax.

Marko

_Swimming now, inside myself; in blood and ink, like a sea, but there's no ink on me. Am I dead? Am I alive? You are both and neither all at the same time. Who are you? We are one. Plugged in, hooked up, together now, yes we are one. _

Marko; come to me.

_I know that voice from outside that's now inside. One of us, but no it's not. It's in the sea, it is the sea of blood and ink, but no it's not. It's a lie and the truth at the same time; this voice that isn't mine. The sea begins to part and collapse in on itself as it rushes towards me; towards us and it is us but not. _

I see you. I have help with me. Come to us.

_Meowing now; Tabby Cat is here, but how? I hear her here, but where; which here is here? Who is with her? I can feel the velvety velvet of Susan who isn't Susan anymore and the rosy smell of roses everywhere. Where did they come from? They came from outside to help me get out of myself. You're with us. This is your fault and her fault. You two caused this... _

_I CAN SEE HER NOW! Tabby Cat is in the ink and blood – she is the ink and the blood, two velvet roses follow her, and the Wizard King waits outside for us all. _

_Sinking..._

_Spinning..._

_Swimming up from the depths, I'm reaching for the Tabby Cat as she reaches out. We are farther apart as we get closer together. The blood and the ink resist and repel and pull us away; it pushes Tabby cat so gently aside _**This is best for us. **_The inky blood speaks. Susan who isn't Susan anymore chases the Tabby Cat, her lover reaches for me. Our hands touch, and the sea of blood and ink envelop us both and everything goes blindingly bright..._

Ajax

If there was anything good about being so butt-ugly that nobody wanted to look at you, it was that it made it really easy to have a good poker face. If nobody wants to look at you, they can't find your tells. That made bluffing easy. With the Gangrel it could be trickier since a lot of them can smell a load of bullshit a mile away; but when you smell like someone doused you in a gallon of bleach even that was hidden.

Not that he was bluffing, exactly; he was just editing the truth a little. Everything he told Fenris was true. He didn't tell her everything, but she didn't need to know about his attempt to loot the Chantry before reviving anybody. The main floor of that place was a maze; and the damn corridors moved so that the only things you could ever find were a lounge-like room and a tiny study. It had to be more Tremere magic. No wonder the Nosferatu had such a hard time finding any dirt on the Tremere.

"Well," he said once they were at the front entrance. "Here we are. They were doing some kind of Mr. Spock group mind meld when I ducked out. I doubt they even realized I left, so you coming in might be a surprise when and if they come out of their séance."

"Lead the way, handsome." Fenris said.

"You're just calling me that because you know it's true." Ajax shot back. "But seriously, as much as a appreciate how much you want me, I'm happily attached right now. Besides, now ain't the time for flirting." He stepped into the Chantry, Fenris close behind.

Strauss looked terrible; he wobbled and weaved, his head buried in his hands as if straining with the mother of all hangovers just as Tabetha and VV gasped loudly, regaining consciousness. X dropped like a ton of bricks beside the still writhing Marko. Black veins popped in and out of sight all over the Malks' skin; X looked about as dead as one could ever be without being a pile of ash.

"What... happened?" VV asked once she gained her senses enough to see that her lover was still down and out.

"The cord was broken." Strauss replied weakly. The..." he paused. To Ajax it sounded like he was stopping himself from saying the wrong thing. "Thing that has your friends captured was far stronger than I anticipated. I could only pull two of you to safety. I offer you my condolences..."

"No!" Tabetha and VV exclaimed in unison as they each dove towards one of the boys on the floor; Tabetha towards Marko and VV towards X.

Xavier

_Which way is up? All is a swirling mess of blood and ink here, it shifts and turns in on itself; and the cacophony of voices laughing and crying and screaming and babbling without end on top of each other. Does Marko hear this noise all the time? No wonder he's mad. Where is Tabetha? I see VV, but Tabetha is missing her body. I hear her, so she's here, but where? She's calling Marko; and VV's light is going in that direction. _

_Follow the light. That is all I can do. The light follows a specific pattern in the dark swirls; the pattern must be Tabetha. How is she doing that? Is that normal for the Tremere? It doesn't much matter right now. _

I CAN SEE HER NOW!

_Marko see us, there he is, we are going that way now. _

**This is best for us **

_One voice pierces through and above all the clamor; it's like it's coming from everywhere and nowhere and from the deepest depths of the deepest sea. The part of the blood-ink that is Tabetha shifts aside. VV swims after her, and now I'm adrift. In desperation, I'm reaching for Marko. I need an anchor or I will forever be lost in this madness..._

"No!" two voices from somewhere beyond all of this cry out.

_The blood-ink closes in; but more of it rushes us like a spear or a lance. It touches Marko and begins to cover him like quicksand. _

_All there is next is light and love so pure it burns with ecstasy... _

Tabetha

Tabetha was unsure if she was really doing this, or if it was someone else. It wasn't Master Strauss; he could barely stand right now. She doubted if that other... one she was now quite certain was with her since her encounter with the Dark One was doing this; it, or he, or whatever seemed to be the one that tried to stop their rescue attempt. It told her that letting Marko get taken was best for the both of them; or maybe all of them, whoever 'they' were...

_They are them, and they are us. You are one with us, and we are one and we are many. _

Such as reality was inside Marko's mind; if she had to have this rolling around in her head nonstop she'd go crazy, too. No time to lose focus; she had to find him and get to him quickly and then pull him out of his own mind. Would he be sane, then? Or would this destroy him? Would anything change? She had to take the chance; better to do something than do nothing.

In the distance there was a light; it broke the murkiness of the Malkavians' psyche, which was clouded all the more by whatever it was she had done to him. The murk broke; and beyond it she saw VV reaching in towards them. Marko and X were dead ahead, X clutching Marko's ankle. As VV reached in, the light burned brighter, and the inky blood recoiled away from it. It was all she could do to not shrink away herself.

Steeling herself, Tabetha plunged forward; reaching Marko a fraction of a second before the light VV was reaching through became so blindingly painful...

She couldn't hold back her shrieks of pain as she came out of the mind of Marko. For a moment, all she could see was light; it was brighter than a thousand suns and it burned behind her skull like molten steel. It came at her in blossoms; like a supernova followed by another, and another, and another...

"I could have told you my head is a bad neighborhood, Tabby Cat." She could hear Marko jest weakly. That told her it worked. He was back; a little worse for wear, but he'd recover.

"You came back for me." She could vaguely hear X.

"I...told you..." VV's voice was the clearest. "I can't lose you. If I did...I'd be lost."

Gradually, Tabetha regained her sight. Marko was trying to get to his feet, VV was helping X regain his, Master Strauss was standing on his own power, but just barely. _I must have done quite the number on him... _

**_That is nothing next to what I _****can****_ do... _**

Ajax was standing, propped against a wall, arms crossed as he waited for everyone to get their shit together. Last, Fenris showed up at some point. At present, she was off to the side, talking quietly on her phone. On his feet now, Marko extended his hand to help her up. Grinning, she took it. He may be completely batshit, but the Malkavian had a kind of charm to him. She imagined that whatever fragment of sanity Janette had left liked that part of Marko best.

"Yes, Baroness," Fenris said only slightly more audible than the rest of her conversation which was evidently with Therese. She terminated the connection on her phone and approached the group.

"In the interest of putting to rest the Setite matter," she said dryly. "Her highness the Baroness and incumbent Prince Therese Vooreman request the presence of her Court to the newly acquisitioned Yen-Zen Garden in Chinatown as soon as is possible. Delay is ill advised. Given his current condition, the incumbent Harpy Strauss is exempt from this call. The incumbent Sheriff and her deputies have been contacted and will rendezvous with us en route."

"Tell the incumbent Prince that she may expect me to appear." Master Strauss said.

"Master Strauss," Tabetha objected. "Is that wise?"

Master Strauss gazed at her. _There really is no option, apprentice. As Harpy, I cannot afford to look weak before the Court is even established. _

Understanding this, Tabetha simply nodded and prepared for the tri into Chinatown.

Cameron

As Therese put her phone away, Cameron noted her body language suggested mixed feelings. Keeping in mind she was a Malkavian, he knew all too well that she would be difficult to read; on the other hand, she often seemed unaware of her Clan. The manner in which she normally carried herself would suggest she was under the delusion she was a Ventrue. This told him she may well be forthright in her state of mind at present.

"Is something troubling you, highness?" He asked.

"I'm not sure." She replied. "Fenris just told me the bulk of the Court officers are together and on their way even as we speak, but she had no luck finding Janette. That could prove problematic."

Cameron smiled. "I wouldn't worry too much about her." He said, hoping he came off as reassuring. He knew very well why the Gangrel couldn't track the 'twin'. How could she find Janette when the body Janette occupied from time to time was here with him in his new garden? The fact that only one half of the whole that made up the Vooreman person seemed aware of this phenomenon made for some interesting possibilities; Cameron wondered again just what price he could pull out of the tramp half to keep this little secret.

"Why not," Therese demanded. "What do you know about her?"

Cameron had to hand it to this half; she was sharp. Fortunately, he had prepared himself for this line of questioning. "Surely she realizes that what you are doing is in the best interest of both of you." He replied. "You said so yourself, highness. As unpredictable and insufferable as she may be, has she not been more or less cooperative – albeit begrudgingly at times – for the last ten years, give or take?"

"That's the part that concerns me." Therese replied matter of factly. "She's long overdue for an outburst, and they often come when I'm closest to some real success."

"True as that may be," Cameron countered, "She is your sister and she does love you and need you. She wouldn't do anything to cause you any real harm." That, as far as he could tell, was the truth. According to what Mercurio saw and heard, Janette even went to length to allow Bertram believe she was sleeping with him to keep her duality a secret even from herself.

"That's true," she agreed. Silent for a moment, Therese looked at Cameron, as if assessing him. "I'll have to admit; it's becoming evident that I may have misjudged you. You are already proving to be an asset."

"Thank you, highness," Cameron bowed lightly.

"In any case, the officers are on their way, and my Court is all but built." Therese stated. "This will prove to be a grand night for this City and for the Ivory Tower."

"I agree highness." Cameron said, a little more flatly than he intended. It wasn't so much that he was lying; it was going to be a grand night. A major city in America coming under the purview of the Camarilla was cause for celebration. The only fly in the ointment was that he initially intended it to be himself that would claim Praxis. Still, making Seneschal despite all the setbacks he encountered is still a win for the Hastings family; even if it is a less significant win. Not only that, he still a card to play when the time was right...


	12. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Tyler

Even before Therese started talking, Tyler had decided he didn't much like the idea of going into the Setite lair just yet. Sure, by the time he got to Cameron's newest purchase – which was currently under renovations and therefore not a good choice to set up a headquarters – both Cammie and Therese looked like they were riding high, but as he watched the others file in he noted that they were not.

Damsel looked like she was spoiling for a fight. Experience taught him that often made her careless. She was better in combat when she was a little bit cooler; that made her less likely to do something reckless. For his own part, he wanted to be sure he was doing the right thing in trying to re-establish the Clan as a Pillar of the Ivory Tower on one hand, and on the other he figured it didn't much matter right now. That kind of indecision often led to making the wrong play at a critical moment. It was better if he gave him some space to put his head in the right place for a major strike.

When Fenris came in to the audience chamber at Yen-Zen, she took no time to check the scene that Tyler could see. She simply marched her ass straight to where Cammie and Therese where standing and took her place to the left and about two paces behind the incumbent Prince. From there she began to assess the scene, but her body language and the expression on her face said it all; her head was in the game at hand, but her heart was not. His instincts told him that player without heart is better off benched. Beckett was there, though nobody could really discern why. He normally had no interest in these kinds of things; and everything in Tyler told him that ultimately made the old Gangrel a liability in this scenario. He was independent, which meant he was neither against nor for anyone other than himself. He wasn't a bad guy, but all too often terrible things happen because good people are unwilling to do anything to stop them from happening.

Therese was riding high; possibly getting overconfident. That was dangerous. Janette was curiously absent; most likely because this sort of shit bores her to tears. She would throw in, probably, most likely on a domestic defense front. Marko looked like hell just rose up from the depths and went straight up his ass. He was jittery and sketching out like he was seeing things. On a strike, the last thing anyone needed was one of your won hallucinating.

Ajax was the only Nosferatu that Tyler could see; not that that meant much of anything. Rumor had it that the Nosferatu were literally crawling all over Chinatown. Apparently they have been ever since the Quei-Jinn and the Tong had been removed. Ajax was also the only one who looked anything like his usual self; but then his face seemed frozen in that creepy, almost perverted permanent grin of his. This made him extremely hard to read. The way he was regarding Cameron suggested he was a little pissed off at the Ventrue. As little as Tyler liked Cameron, this would not be the time to let personal grievances get in the way. Ajax turned his gaze at Tyler and nodded sharply. Tyler nodded back slowly and turned his attention over to the Toreador contingent.

Considering how rough Xavier looked, like he was recovering from the worst hangover in recorded history, it was understandable why VV looked so worried. As always, VV hid her worry well, but after ten years at this, Tyler felt pretty sure he could pick it out. Kaila was there, too. She looked fine, but there was something shifty in her eyes. On top of that, she seemed more interested in flirting with Mr. High and mighty Hastings than in what they were actually here for.

Strauss looked worse than Marko; as if hell gave him the same treatment it did the Malkavian, and then invited a pack of werewolves to join the fun. How the Tremere Regent was still standing was beyond Tyler. Tabetha looked fine physically, but it was obvious she was distracted. Her problem seemed exactly the opposite of Fenris'. Her heart was in the right place, but her head clearly was not. If your head isn't in the game, that is another player on the bench; experience had taught him.

Cameron looked like he was on top of his game; and was all smug about it, too. That all by itself was a problem as far as Tyler was concerned. He looked like he was up to something; like he had an ace up his sleeve that was just itching to play. To his credit, he was doing a fair job of ignoring Kaila's flirtations; though that may have been part of why he was riding so high.

All in all, this was not a good night to go on a snake hunt...

Fenris

Therese was yammering on and on about how she was the one who was going to run the snakes out of town, and how that was why her claim to Praxis in the name of the Camarilla was the only legitimate claim on the table. If anyone wished to oppose, now was the time to present their case; all Fenris was really hearing was more irrelevant politics and ridiculous power game nonsense. From the look of things, Beckett knew exactly where she was coming from, and Tyler had a pretty good idea, too. It was clear he was not buying into the scenario; or not totally, anyway. He might be trying to make a play of his own, though Fenris couldn't quite figure out what that play was. He looked like the kind of guy who might try to change a system from the inside, but if that was the case he was kidding himself. For her own part she was only here because she had to be; now she owed Therese. It was looking more and more like she might never get out of the city.

All that aside, she had a job to do. Visually the room looked safe enough; not quite as secure as she would like, especially with all the renovation going on, but there were no immediate threats that she could discern. The air was musty and dusty, which made it difficult to get a clear scent reading. As far she could tell everyone was who they said they were, though other than Therese, Cameron, and Ajax everyone seemed on edge about something. That was taking into account that Therese always seemed on edge; most likely concerning Janette. Kaila was new, so her Cinnamon scent was still a bit of a mystery; it was clear she had taken a shine to Cameron for some reason. There was one factor that was bothering her; the air had a clingy feel to it; it was like some kind of inky residue was sticking to everything.

Tyler was whispering something into Damsel's ear. Ajax was announcing that he knew a way in; a back door so they could take the snakes out from inside their lair.

Damsel spoke. "Screw that." She said. "I'm sick of playing stupid games with these bastards. I say we go in and take them out in a frontal assault. The Mansion's isolated enough that there is no Masquerade threat, and the snakes won't be able to handle anything so direct; especially if we hit hard and fast enough that they don't have time to respond."

Apparently she was ignoring Tyler; he rolled his eyes and backed away in exasperation.

"An inside job will make it easier for us to make sure they stay dead." Ajax countered. "Not only that, but if we can some of their hearts, we'll have them by their balls."

"There's another thing to consider," Fenris added. "We'll have to get in anyway if we want to deal with that box and verify that Beckett is right when he decided it was a forgery."

Beckett grinned. "You're doubting my assessment." He chuckled. "How adorable; there may be hope for you yet, young one."

Holding her rifle like a scepter, Therese cleared her throat loudly. The chatter and banter stopped immediately.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear." She said. "My court will not be what you soon to be reformed Anarchs call a 'rant'. None will speak without first being recognized by the Court.  
"Now that I have clarified that, let me tell you how this will work. Sheriff Damsel, you will assemble what Deputies you can to launch your frontal assault. This will serve as distraction while Ajax leads a small team inside through his back door obtains hearts if he can, and either destroy or capture the coffin. Failing all that will not really matter; what will matter is having a team inside their fortress even as an attack is taking place outside."

Tyler stepped forward again, ready to blurt something out but stopped himself.

"The Court acknowledges Tyler DeFaulte of Clan Brujah." Cameron chimed in, his voice overflowing with all that is right and proper in the civilized world of etiquette and decorum. It was almost enough to make Fenris gag; she probably would have if she was still alive.

Tyler glanced at Cameron, apparently shocked at how readily his need to speak was acknowledged, and quickly shook it off and spoke. "So far the plan is solid enough," he said, "but looking at us now I'd say going in tonight would get us all killed. We need a day of sleep to get rested and healed up. It will give us time to get our gear and people up, too."

Marko

**_The Brujah is right..._**

The voice in the water seemed to have scared the rest of the Network away. Wherever this voice came from, it seemed ancient and powerful. Whatever it was, it also seemed to speak with authority and wisdom. It liked what Tidy Bear had to say.

Of course the big problem with it was it was almost impossible to discern the voice in the water from his own actual thoughts; was it something or someone else, or was he merely externalizing his own thoughts to create a confirmation bias within his own mind. Was he being advised that Tidy Bear was making the right call, or was it his own idea? Did it matter one way or another when everything was coated in the same inky blood that Tabby Cat hit him with?

"Well ain't that the sweetest thing?" Ajax countered. "It seems Damsel finally let Tyler have his sack back and he went and gave it some other dame. If we're going to strike at the snakes, it's gotta be now before they even have a chance to catch wind of our intentions."

"Look around you Ajax." Tidy Bear retorted with surprising calm. "You are talking about going into battle when not one of us is in the right frame of mind or body. We go in now, and none of us come out whole. It's really that simple."

"Marko," Cameron interjected. "You look like you have something to say. The Court recognizes you."

Looking around, Marko cleared his throat; it felt inky, which was weird even for him.

"Me?" he asked. "Well, I think Tidy Bear is right. It would be better to hold off until next sunset to ensure we are all in top form."

**_Very wise of you..._** the water voice encouraged.

Cameron nodded. The Baroness-Prince afforded him a quick glance of approval for restoring her idea of order.

"What about our Gangrel representative tonight? Fenris, how do you feel about all this?" Cameron asked.

"I want to get this over with." Fenris said with almost no thought at all. "I'm getting sick of all this crap. The sooner it's begun, the sooner it's done."

Damn Sail muttered some kind of agreement with that thought, and shot a look at Tidy Bear that said he'd be sleeping in another room.

Cameron was in top form. "Very well," he said. "Tell me, who will speak for the Toreador Clan tonight? What does the Rose have to say on this matter?"

**_Clever Ventrue; he's compelling the Clans to pick their Primogen, likely the ones he feels he can manipulate..._**

A brief pause impregnated the already thick, inky air. X and Kaila locked eyes, and Susan not Susan anymore nudged X forward gently. If the Water was right, then X was Primogen, but VV was in charge.

"The Rose agrees with Ajax and Fenris," Xavier Vega managed to say. Both VV and Cameron cringed ever so slightly. Marko didn't need help to interpret that; VV was hoping to hold off the violence, and the Dirty Duckling wanted Kaila because he was figuring he could seduce her. He seemed to be missing that she was the seducer between the two of them. "We want this Setite mess cleaned up, and the sooner the better."

"Clan Tremere; what do you have to say?" Cameron pressed.

All eyes in the room fell on Tabby Cat; who looked lost in a fugue. This was a state Marko knew a little bit about; sometimes he got lost in the Network. He wondered if that's what it was for her, too. The water in his brain receded, taking the ink-blood with it. As it did, the Network started to come back in an almost perfect chorus...

_Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

Tabby Cat nearly jumped out of her skin as she joined her immediate surroundings. Marko wondered if his behavior looked that silly when he broke free.

"Well," she said, "house and Clan Tremere agree with Clans Brujah and Malkav; clearly if we go in now we will most likely fail. Not only will lose the City, but probably our lives. We simply are not healthy enough to go into battle." She paused, as if to contemplate her next statement. "I cite my own distracted state of mind as the perfect example."

Behind her, the Wizard-King nodded in approval. Cameron smiled as if in victory. If the Water was correct, the Dirty Duckling was happy with the overall result he got.

"Then Clan Ventrue holds the swing vote." He declared. "Since I am the only Ventrue at this gathering, I can speak for the Clan until a proper Primogen can be chosen; if the Prince approves..."

"That will suffice for the time being," Therese allowed. "But yes, a proper Primogen council will have to be selected among the Clans."

"Thank you, highness;" Dirty Duckling bowed lightly. "Then I say that the Ventrue Clan agree with the Big Guy's assessment, for once. As important as ridding our city of the Followers of Set is, we are in no condition to go in their tonight. We can strategize, and then recess this Gathering until tomorrow night for execution."

"I agree," Therese said. "We organize who will be on which team tonight and move in tomorrow. The nights to follow will be about making Praxis and Court official."

Ajax

Ajax could not believe how easy it was to pry what he needed to know about those who seemed to be the big players in this City was. All he had to do was put forth an opposing perspective from what was obviously the right call, and he got a good feel as to where the political lines would get drawn before long. He had to admit, some of the lines were a little surprising.

Unless they were both just being realistic and setting differences aside, the fact that Cammie and Tye actually agreed on something was almost unheard of. Come to think of it, this was the first time Ajax could remember that ever happening. It was possible that one or the other was up to something, or maybe both of them. It struck odd that any Bruja in LA would decide against an immediate strike; Ajax was originally planning on speaking in favor of discretion before valor. Why was Tye trying to turn over a new leaf suddenly? Is it some kind of tactic? What was Cameron up to? He obviously has some ace up his sleeve, but what could it be? Was he planning on giving his snake allies a heads up so they could clear out? Was he just trying to suck Tye into the Camarilla game so deep he couldn't get back out? Or did he have some kind of unknown leverage? If he did, who did he have it on? This wasn't about Therese or Janette. He had to have something else going on.

Obviously, Therese had already made up her mind. Odds were good that Marko knew this, and played his part just s he was supposed to. Why else would he make such a sane call when he was clearly so far from being rational, even to his own standard?

Fenris could care less about the Setites. She wanted to get her affairs, all of them, done and dealt with so she could satisfy her boon to Therese and get out of the City. She most likely wanted to go to wherever Beckett was going. Her challenge to his assessment was calculated. She was counting on him being at least mildly impressed with her desire to see for herself and essentially hold the hard evidence first hand. Ajax liked Fenris, but he figured it might be best if she did get out.

Initially, Ajax was surprised at the response Xavier gave. It seemed out of place that a Whoreador would actually be in favor of violent action at all. Then the Nosferatu remembered just how brutal and efficient X could be; that was exquisitely demonstrated in the Hollywood hills and at the Hollowbrook when dealing with the Sabbat ten years ago. It cost him a great deal of humanity, but he really got the job done. Maybe he was feeling the Beast creep up on him. If that's the case, then he would need a break more than all of them. Still, he was clearly still leaning on the Anarch sentiment of opposing the Ivory Tower, at least a little bit.

That Tabetha would vote against going in right away was no surprise; she was smart like that. It was also obvious that she was going through something nasty right now; she probably wanted to make sure that shit didn't fuck with in the middle of a strike. She had that cold, practical nature that would make most who didn't know better assume she was embrace by Strauss. When those two were seen together, it would be easy to make that mistake.

The teams were lined up: Xavier and Tabetha would be joining Ajax and the Nosferatu on stronghold infiltration play, and Marko and Fenris would be with Tyler and the Bruja on the outer strike. Cammie and Kaila would be sticking back with the officers in the event of a counter-strike while the grunts did their thing. It just figured that the Ventrue would take the cushy office job. Then again, he did wheel and deal his way to Seneschal, which was just where Bertram wanted him.

As the meeting broke, everyone started to head back into their little corners of the City; mostly according to Clan, except for Kaila, who decided to join Cammie instead of her Clan-mates. Ajax pondered his options as to whom he should shadow. He'd had enough of the Tremere for one night, and the Whores rarely did anything too interesting. Fenris was, begrudgingly, in tow with the Malkavians. Other than possibly watching Fenris have to take a tongue lashing for opting opposite the Prince's wishes, there wasn't likely too much of use going on there. Besides, Bertram probably had Santa Monica well scouted. That pretty much left the Brujah Clan. Not only could he find out what bug Tye's got lately, but there was good chance to watch Damsel and Tyler duke it out. That would be a fun bonus, Ajax would put his money on Damsel, and that made it even better.

Xavier

VV seemed disturbed by Xavier's silence on the way back to Hollywood from Chinatown. In his peripheral vision he could tell she was worried; he thought it was likely she was concerned his humanity was, as frail in its recovery it was, in jeopardy once again. She was obviously waiting for him to break the silence. That was probably wise.

"Is there something on your mind?" He finally asked.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I was...curious why you would speak in favor of taking immediate action when it's obvious that Tyler was right?"

Xavier grinned. "You want to know why I endorsed taking the wrong action."

"Yes."

"For the same reason Ajax did." Xavier explained. "Well, sort of; Ajax wanted to see who would align with whom. He might have been doing so at the request of Cameron and Therese, I'm not sure. My reason was similar in that I wanted to see if I was right that Cameron had already decided how he would vote."

"I'm not sure I understand." Velvet said. "If Cameron is in any way aligned with the Setites, doesn't this allow him to warn them?"

"If he was really working for them, yes," Xavier agreed. "But he won't. My bet is he has something on them. The point is I'm not going to make anything easy for either one of them. This way they will know they have to tread carefully if they want to keep their offices."

"Well," Velvet concurred, "we are supposed to keep Therese in check. I'm sure the Sheriff will not like how this particular scenario turned out."

"We can let Tyler handle that." Tyler replied. "He's actually remarkably cool headed for a Bruja. He can smooth over any kinks with Damsel. She's hot headed, but a good strategist; she'll see this is the right call."

"So...the only reason you spoke in favor of an immediate attack was to compel Cameron into clearly voicing his stance on the matter." VV confirmed.

"Yes."

"And if the vote was going the wrong way, you would have called for us to wait in order to... even the vote out."

"Yes." Xavier confirmed. "Either way, both Cameron and Therese know that we are not so easily manipulated."

The pair had arrived back at Vesuvius. They bid each other farewell, and Xavier continued on to the Pit, where he had some business to attend to. He intended to come back to VV at Vesuvius once he was done; it seemed the right course to take to revitalize prior to a major engagement. There was one more reason he called for immediate action; it was because Damsel did. As he played a big part in her deciding to take the role of Sheriff, he felt it best he back her call up, at least for now.

Tabetha

Once the clearly compromised Tremere Regent and Harpy apparent Strauss was secured in the Chantry, Tabetha Toussaint, Primogen apparent, departed once again; this time towards the Cameron Arms Hotel. The reason she gave Master Strauss was that the Ventrue and Tremere Clans respectively were the longest standing and most consistently loyal to the Ivory Tower, so they should remain in close alliance with one another; the others could prove untrustworthy. Strauss agreed, so now Tabetha was on her way to have words with the soon to be named Seneschal Cameron Hastings.

The reasons she gave her Regent were true, but not the whole truth; she also believed that Cameron was holding something back, and she was aiming to learn what that could be. She arrived at the hotel to see Cameron and Kaila exiting, exchanging a few words, and giving each other the obligatory goodbye kisses that the mortal world would expect before Kaila climbed into a cab which drove off into the night.

She caught up to Cameron just before he reached the elevators. As she passed the concierge at the front desk, she noted his surprise. For a brief moment she could see the proverbial wheels turning behind his eyes. It must have seemed to him that there was Heather, now this new woman, and now her – whom he had seen very recently apparently to 'talk' to the now gone Miss Heather Poe. How it probably looked to him was that Mr. Hastings had women crawling over him, or perhaps that his prowess in corporate America was much greater than most imagined. He regarded Cameron with a look of admiration and quickly returned to his duties without a word.

"I think we need to talk." Tabetha said, a little more sharply than she meant to.

"Absolutely," Cameron replied in that all too friendly tone of his. "Come with me to my office. We can talk there."

One of the elevators opened. They stepped in and Cameron punched the floor to his office.

"That man at the desk," Tabetha said to break the silence that developed between them. "He's a... interesting specimen."

"You mean Ezra." Cameron replied. "Yes, he is, actually. He's quite good at his job; very thorough. I've been considering him for a promotion, to be honest."

Tabetha thought that would be a first. Cameron and honesty seemed like an unlikely combination.

"You're considering him for the embrace?" She asked.

"No, of course not," He waved the notion off before she could inquire if Therese knew of his contemplation. "I mean that I do need a replacement for Heather. He might not be as much fun to look at, but he could prove most competent in that particular role."

Tabetha raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought you might put Mercurio in charge of the hotel."

"Ezra knows this building better than anyone else on my staff." He pointed out matter of factly. "Besides, Mercurio is much more useful in matters outside of the hotel." He turned his head and glanced at her. "I seriously doubt that you came here to talk about my staff, though. Tell me, Tremere, what's on your mind?"

"That can wait until we're in your office." She replied, suddenly aware that her choice of words could be taken to mean precisely the type thing that Ezra was likely thinking right now. While such a presumption was fine for Masquerade purposes, the idea made her cringe slightly.

"Very well," Cameron said as the elevator stopped and the doors opened, revealing the hallway in front of them. One of the neighboring elevators closed as they stepped out and made their way to Cameron's office.

The typically smugly confident expression on the Ventrue's face began to fade as they approached. Tabetha watched as his face changed first to a moment of confusion, then realization, then frustrated outrage. The door to his office was ajar.

"Oh, for god sake!" he muttered. "Damned Nossies, why can't they leave their noses out of my affairs? I really must do something about security issues!"

His rant got cut short as his expression changed once more to one of panic. "The safe," He shouted. "I have to check the safe!"

Tabetha suppressed a giggle as Cameron sprinted the remaining distance to his office and through the door. It was a marvel to her how attached the Ventrue Clan could be to material possessions and the trappings of the mundane world. With an exasperated sigh, she quickened her own pace so she could help the Seneschal apparent sort out whatever mess his office might be in. Not only would it help cement Clan relations, but it never hurt to have the favor of the Seneschal on a personal level.

Cameron

Ignoring the absolutely deplorable shambles the rest of his office was in, Cameron Hastings allowed himself a sigh of relief once the safe carefully hidden beneath his desk was open to reveal the jar hidden in it, untouched. Whichever one of the Nosferatu was in here was clearly an amateur in the skill of burglary; much to Cameron's good fortune. The old 'safe in the floorboards under the desk' was about as old the concept of having a safe at all. He picked up the jar, opened it and inspected the contents within; the heart was still there. With a grin full of malicious intent, he resealed the jar just as Tabetha caught up to him.

She regarded the jar in Cameron's hand for about ten seconds.

"You know that isn't yours, don't you?" she said in that Wednesday Addams tone of hers. "The snakes obviously still have that."

"I'm counting on it." Cameron replied. He could see she did not comprehend what he was talking about. "If this belongs to who I think it does, then I have a bargaining chip of magnificent proportions. In fact, at worst what we have with the Followers of Set is a Mexican standoff."

"That calls for speculation." She said, and then suddenly stopped, as if frozen on the spot.

Cameron turned to look behind him and saw the woman which caused Tabetha to go still; she was a pretty little number with red hair- her eyes like those of a serpent.

"Speculate no farther, Lord Hastings," she said, not taking her eyes off the Tremere. Keeping her gaze fixed, she extended her right hand to him. "Alejandro wants his heart back now; unless you wish for yours to be burned to a cinder. Trust me, Ventrue, you do not want that."

Cameron decided it was worth the risk; he opted to bluff his way out of this predicament.

"If Alejandro had that option, he would have used it already. I'm willing to wager that for some reason or another he needs me alive. I however, would be better off if he wasn't. He and your Clan are already proving to be more of a liability than an asset. But I am also willing to cut my losses without bloodshed. Therefore I reply to your bluff with a proposition; go back to your priest and tell him I offer to make a little trade. Tell him he can have his heart back in exchange for my own – unaltered, of course."

The Setite girl laughed, keeping her serpent-eyes on Tabetha. "And what's to stop me from just taking what belongs to us from you here and now?" She challenged.

"I invite you to try."

The Setite hissed, baring her fangs as if to accept the challenge. She inhaled sharply and blew a mist of venom at Tabetha, who shrank back and away from the mist, letting out a sharp cry of both pain and surprise. Next the Setite began to change form; her skin became scaly and her face began to take a shape somewhere between humanoid and reptilian. She fixed her glance onto him and prepared to take a flying leap at him...

...and then a crackling noise filled the air as blue-white light like lightning cut through room and struck her in multiple strands on all her extremities. The Setite let out a sustained shriek of agony as electricity shot through her body. Looking like the real world answer to Emperor Palpatine, Tabetha stood with both hands extended while lighting coursed out of her fingertips, all trained on the Setite who was now writhing on the floor still shrieking in agony.

Cameron raised an eyebrow and watched for about 30 seconds with a kind of sadistic glee before he raised a hand to halt Tabetha. Curiously enough to him, she stopped immediately. The Setite – her name didn't much matter to Cameron – moaned and groaned in pain. The she made her mistake which played into Cameron's hands perfectly. She looked up at him.

Activating his Domination powers, he began: "Here's what you are going to do. You will go directly back to your temple. You will not delay for any reason. When you get there, you will speak only to Alejandro. You will tell him this is important, and you must speak with him alone. You will insist on this, and even offer your worthless unlife if necessary. Once you have him alone, you will tell him that I do indeed have his heart, and I am willing to make a little trade. I will give him his heart back, undamaged and unaltered, in exchange for my own, which must also be undamaged and unaltered in any way. This exchange will take place tomorrow night at the Yen-Zen Garden in Chinatown. He is to come alone. Upon leaving this building, you will not remember what happened to you; you will remember only that I made this proposal. Do you understand?"

The Setite indicated she did.

"Good," Cameron smiled maliciously. "You may go now." He released her from his Dominate. She got up off his floor, scooted past Tabetha and made her way to the elevators.

"Do you really think this Alejandro will show up alone?" Tabetha challenged once the Setite was well on her way.

"Of course not," Cameron said. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up empty handed, and opted to try for a strike against us there."

"Then why..."

"This way, their temple will be all the more vulnerable to our strike there, and I will still have Alejandro in the palm of my hand. It will simply be a matter of setting up an ambush for him when he gets to the garden."

Tabetha nodded, apparently understanding.


	13. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Tyler

The lines had been changed up a little; Cammie had a new play to add to the game, evidently. The Clan was still spearheading the outside strike along with Fenris and a couple of other Gangrel as a kind of misdirect for the snakes while Ajax and X snuck in the back door to bring the stronghold down from the inside out. Meanwhile, Cammie basically plucked Marko and Tabetha for a home base ambush. Based on what that Ventrue prick said, he had something that was pretty much guaranteed to bring the Setite boss out of his hole and out in the open. Maybe that was for the best; Marko is batshit crazy and Tabetha has been off her game lately. Let Cammie deal with that crap, Tyler figured.

For their part, the combined connections that the Bruja, Fenris, and Ajax had put together a pretty good arsenal for such a short notice. The Bruja had a small stash of pipe bombs hidden away; the Gangrel had few Molotov Cocktails. Somehow, Ajax and his Clan got hold of some Astrolite; Tyler didn't really want to know how. One of them, probably Mitnick or Barabbas, was able to assemble a timed detonator that crazy assed nasty shit.

At the moment, Damsel, the Gangrels, and the Bruja were positioned in blind spots around the fortress with him; waiting for Fenris to come back to let them know that Ajax and X were ready to go.

"I tell you, Tye," Damsel grumbled impatiently. "I'm getting a little tired of all this waiting. Good strategy is one thing, but this is starting to get really old."

Tyler stopped himself from grinning; in her mood, Damsel would definitely misread a grin as making fun of her when in fact it was because her initiative was what he loved most about her. Instead, he reached into his duffel bag and handed her one of the pipe bombs.

"I tell you what, darlin'." He replied, knowing he was about the only one who could get away with a pet name –other than Marko who couldn't help himself – for her. "How about you're the one who gets this party started once it's time?"

Damsel took the bomb, resisting the urge to let go of her scowl of rage and vengeance. "I guess that's better than nothing." She said trying to sound gruff, even if everyone around her knew she really did have a soft heart under her tough as nails exterior; it was that precise combination that made her the Den Mother of the Movement in LA.

Fenris crept up next to them. As she did, the other two Gangrel turned into mist form and moved into the yard of the fortress.

"They're in position." Fenris informed them. Then she started to take on the form of a wolf.

"Well it's about damn time." Damsel said, making a Zippo lighter dance across the fingers of her left hand before expertly popping the lid and lighting it in one motion. She lit the fuse and lobbed the bomb into the yard.

Fenris

**BOOM!**

The pipe bomb that Damsel lobbed exploded right in front of the main entrance of the fortress, knocking the two sentries off their feet and stunning them just long enough for Fenris to bound through the hedges and tackle one of them before they could regain their feet. The other sentry did manage to gain his feet and began to draw a pistol. Before he could take aim and fire, he crumpled to the ground under a hail of bullets; dancing briefly to the barking of machine-gun fire.

Ripping the throat out of her own target, Fenris spotted Tyler lobbing a Molotov cocktail towards the far end of the lawn; thus he made a small wall of flame which served as a temporary barricade against reinforcements. Meanwhile, a medley of automatic fire and shotgun blasts filled the air and riddled the front of the house, smashing through the glass in the windows. The main doors flew open, and four more Setite fighter-types came rushing out to be greeted by her two Clan mates who had just finished reverting back to their original form; they let the first two pass and ambushed the two in drogue, claws extended. Around the corner of the fortress- the side Tyler had not firebombed – a few more snake men came charging. Even over the din, Fenris could hear Damsel curse this as she rushed into them, engaging Celerity and Potence to greet the closest one to her with a running fist to the face. One or two of her Clansmen followed her into the battle, shouting as they did. The Gangrels took care of their targets easily enough as Tyler quickly dispatched one of the two that they let by. Fenris heard a sharp yelp of pain and frustration as she bounded to the second of the two remaining door men. In mid leap, she changed back to her humanoid form, claws popped as she tackled her mark. Nearby, Tyler liberated his quarry of its head and dashed towards the main doors, where one the Gangrels was writhing; his hands were covering his eyes. The other one struggling with a huge snake coiled around him. She slashed and tore at the Setite she had pinned down until it crumbled to dust and then, engaging her Fortitude, raced to the main doors to aid Tyler and her Clan Mates.

Apparently satisfied the Brujah could handle their situation, Damsel turned back to join her and Tyler. While Tyler and Fenris barged into the fortress, Damsel yanked the snake off the Gangrel, pulled it apart into two separate pieces, tossed one piece into the fire and the other aside somewhere. It occurred to Fenris that Damsel could back up most, if not all of her tough talk and violent imagery as she jumped through one of the now shattered windows. As the three of them ventured deeper into the Setite headquarters, she wondered briefly if they were making enough noise and creating enough of a disturbance for Ajax and X to do their thing...

Marko

The Dirty Duckling seemed to have his little scheme well thought out. He obviously put it all together quickly; probably improvised some of the process...  
_He was expecting the Prince-Baroness, Not the Bright Daughter of Janus...  
_But it was still pretty solid, all things taken into consideration.

Deep in the bowels of his new garden, Cameron had a secret chamber, likely the same place that Ming Xiao was finally destroyed in. What made it an even bigger secret was you had to solve a puzzle just to become aware of its existence, let alone gain access to it. Marko had no doubt that was a left over from the Kuei-Jin. After the Dirty Duckling placed the keys in the right places, a portal of light opened. He stepped through it first, and beckoned Janette to follow. As an afterthought, he allowed Tabby-Cat and Marko to enter as well. Inside the hidden chamber, Mercury was waiting; leaning casually against a cauldron that looked horribly out of place with the rest of the decor. It was set up on a raised platform, and at the base of the platform sat a flamethrower and two fire resistant suits.

"There you go, boss," Mercury said with his Brooklyn good cheer. "It was really short notice, but I got everything you asked for and set it all up just like you asked."

"I see that." Cameron agreed. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and produced a flask which he handed to Mercury. The Fleet Footed one took it eagerly and then quickly composed himself. "Well done, Mercurio," Dirty Duckling said. Then he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Now go on back to Santa Monica. I will call you with further instructions later."

Alternating his gaze from the flask to his master and back and forth again, Mercury finally jammed the flask into the back pocket of his slacks and stepped through the portal. Once he was gone, Cameron turned his attention to the three of them.

_Duckling knows the Janus secret...  
Duckling doesn't know the trouble he's in... _

"What's for dinner, Duckling?" Janette asked. "Flame-broiled snake hearts, or were you hoping to toss Therese into that pot?"

Duckling smirked. "Not at all, Janette," the Seneschal apparent said reassuringly. "I would never seek to harm either one of you. The pot is for this." He showed them a jar, which all three of them Auspex enough to see had a heart inside of it. There was something in the way Duckling said 'either one of you' that rang an alarm for Marko. It would seem the Network was right again. He glanced momentarily at Tabby-Cat; she seemed better tonight.

"You had no intention of trading with Alejandro." Tabby-Cat said. It was a statement she made; not a question.

"Of course not" Cameron confirmed. "This whole matter ends tonight. Which reminds me;" He stooped down and picked up one of the bunny suits and tossed it to Janette. Then he picked up the other one and began to step into it. "Put that one on, Janette. I wouldn't want anything to happen to her highness or her little sister, now would I?"

That confirmed it. Somehow the Ventrue found out. That aside, Marko was suddenly very glad he chose the Biohazard jumpsuit tonight; it wasn't as fire resistant as the one the Seneschal and the Prince's reflection were wearing, but it would help just the same.

Despite muttering something about a fashion rebellion, Janette put the bunny suit on. Cameron raised the flamethrower and invited Marko to wear it. He even helped in the process of ensuring it was all properly equipped.

"So here's how it's going to work." Cameron declared with the kind of authority that only a Ventrue can muster into their voice – was it a Presence trick? No, then the Toreador would do it, too. Then again, the Toreadors have a way of making people like and admire them rather than exerting authority and encouraging obedience. "I will stay here with Janette as a last line of defence should they attempt to attack her, and my primary weapon will be this...Tabetha if you will do the honors."

Tabby-Cat's eyes went that inky black again as she pointed to the cauldron, causing flames to bust up from inside of it.

"Thank you. You two can decide amongst yourselves who will remain in the building and who will act as outdoor sentry. Once in position, your mission is to keep all other Setites besides Alejandro out. Him we want to get to this chamber.

"How can you be sure he'll even have the item you want from him?" Marko asked.

_He doesn't have it.  
She has it.  
Troubletroubletroubletrouble..._

"I can't be." Duckling said casually. "It's called a calculated risk."

"If you want this to end tonight, why not end it right now?" Marko asked. "Why not just toss his heart in the pot straight away?"

"Because he wants to see the serpent's face as it crumbles into ash, Kitten." Janette explained even before the Network could react. There was a hint of admiration in her voice – it was like the Dark daughter came out for a peek. "I'm starting to see what Therese sees in you, Duckling."

The Duckling awarded Janette with a weak smile; it was obvious he was starting to get a little impatient.

"That's comforting." He said, his usual sarcasm returning to his voice. "You two can go, now." He added, not taking his eyes off Janette.

_He wants her to himself..._

Despite the warning from the Network, Marko backed away from them and towards the portal. Slowly Tabby-Cat followed him out.

"I think it's best if you patrol outdoors." She stated. Before he could ask why, she continued. "With that thing strapped on, you're just as likely to burn the whole place down around our ears. Besides, I'm quite capable of handling things in here."

Marko was about to object, posing the argument that her current condition might make her a threat to both Cameron and Janette if she's too close. He took one look at her and saw her suddenly covered in blood (not ink) as if it was going to serve as a kind of armor, and decided it best not to argue at all. He made his way outside.

Ajax

The exploding pipe bomb was enough of a signal for them.

"That's our cue." Xavier pointed out, always able to grasp the obvious with stunning accuracy.

"Yup," Ajax agreed, doing his best to hide his disdain. As little as he liked the airhead he was stuck with, it was no secret that Xavier could more than handle himself in a fight. This was even truer when he had that bush hook he had with him tonight.

The entrance Ajax remembered from his last visit here was now locked; like that made any difference. Activating his Potence, the Nosferatu grabbed the door and pulled it off of its frame. He tossed it aside indifferently and turned to X.

"I know where we're going." He said. "I'll lead the way; you keep any obstacles out of our way."

Xavier paused to kiss some kind of charm on a chain around his neck; a cross of some sort with a snake coiled around it. Then he hefted that bush hook he was so fond of with an almost demonic grin on his face. Ajax didn't like that grin; it gave him the shivers something fierce, and that said something.

"Lead on, Mac Duff." The Toreador said. Ajax shook his head in a manner he hoped looked like mild contempt at the piss poor attempt at a Shakespeare reference. The real reason was to shake off the discomfort of that grin; he just hoped it didn't indicate the Beast was too close to the surface. Next Ajax stepped through the rear entrance. Given the level of noise out front, this should be a pretty quick procedure: Get to the coffin, load the Astrolite, set the detonator and timer, and get the hell out.

Aside from the narrow entrance, the hall was actually higher and wider than Ajax remembered; of course, he was nowhere near his full cognitive capacity the last time he made use of this access. He contemplated cloaking the both of them, then decided against it. Even with Tyler and Fenris raising a ruckus, there was a chance they would have to move faster than he could keep the cloak up. Odds were good that getting there wouldn't be a problem; it was the exit that would be the real challenge. Really, though; what could possibly go wrong? Right?

Xavier

As soon as they entered, Xavier Vega's senses kicked in; he guessed that Ajax was accustomed to the dark and dank nature of this kind of place and could see fine, but he also figured he might miss obfuscated obstacles even if he knew what to look for. If he was going to be honest – at least to himself – he would rather be on point, but the Nosferatu ahead of him was the one who knew where they were going. So the Toreador let Ajax take the lead, and he kept watch from behind. The Nosferatu took a number of twists and turns, stopped once and side-stepped through a rather cleverly disguised passage.

"Pay close attention, Rose boy," Ajax admonished. "We're probably going to have to book out of here once this shit is set. Mitnick didn't preset the timer with a lot of time for an exit."

"I think I got it, bleach head," Xavier countered; it was true, too. He was really very good at remembering stuff like this. "When it's time to go, you just better be able to keep up."

Abruptly, Xavier swung his hook above Ajax's head; the Nosferatu barely ducking in time. Ajax whirled around, mouth gaping open. He was about to ask him what the hell he was doing when he saw the two halves of large snake uncoil and drop to the floor between them. It writhed and quickly died; but did not ash. Clearly it was not Kindred, though it was possible and even likely to be a ghoul pet. Ajax nodded, turned and resumed his lead. He took them eventually to a set of stairs which were dimly lit at the top, but had zero light at the bottom.

"If you brought a weapon," Xavier suggested, "now would be a good time to draw it. We don't want to get boxed in here."

With his face locked in what could only be described as being in the shape of a satanic Cheshire cat on Ecstasy, Ajax somehow managed to form a grin even more pronounced on his lipless mouth as he produced a .45 from the waistband of his trousers. Noticing the subtleties of the Nosferatu's facial expressions now, Xavier was able to detect certain shifts in muscles that he thought were atrophied. This fact became all the more apparent when those tiny muscles shifted yet again to reveal what must have passed for an expression of alarm. Ajax trained the pistol in Xavier's direction.

"Get down!" he shouted, barely giving the Toreador time to comply before emptying the clip. Xavier turned his head to watch as a large snake-man reeled like a demented puppet in perfect step with each report of the .45 until it finally crumbled to ash. Ajax reloaded the pistol and pointed it down the steps.

"Shall we continue?" He invited.

"Please," Xavier replied. As the two of them resumed their descent, Xavier wondered briefly if the Nos would attempt to collect a boon; he would surely be justified in doing so. On the other hand, they both saved each others' skin. At present, the score was hardly even, but then again the night was far from over. Not only that, but the Nosferatu had no idea what the charm that he was wearing did.

Ajax led through another series of twists and turns. Much to the Toreador's surprise this little game of follow the leader went on without incident. He knew that Tyler, Fenris, and Damsel were upstairs with the other Brujah and Gangrel running interference, but it seemed unlikely that all the action would be upstairs.

"I guess the rest of them are trying to get to Cameron." Ajax pointed out. "Otherwise this makes no sense; unless it's some kind of trap."

"Do you really think that's even possible?" Xavier asked. At this point, Ajax had stopped them at a door.

"With these snakes anything is possible." Ajax insisted. "They might even want us to blow this place sky high for some other 'higher purpose'."

Xavier thought it over; shook his head lightly. It seemed unlikely; he knew a thing or two about Byzantine tactics, and this was a stretch. Still, Ajax was partly right; this could be a trap. In fact that trap could be waiting to be set off just on the other side of the door that Ajax was holding off from opening. Trap or not, they didn't have much choice.

"Is what we came here for behind that door?" He asked, pointing at the door with his hook.

"Yep," Ajax confirmed. "You know there's probably an ambush on the other side, right?"

"I know it." Xavier agreed. He shifted his grip on the bush hook to ready himself to charge in. He had an idea how this was going to look. Ajax touched the handle of the door. He looked over his shoulder at Xavier, his eyes asking if the Toreador was ready. Without speaking, they seemed to agree the best tactic was to go in faster and harder than the Serpents that were probably waiting on the other side expected. Since he was the quicker of the two, Xavier would blast through first, clearing the path for Ajax to set the Astrolite so they could get the hell out. This was probably going to get violent; VV wouldn't like it that he got into a high profile battle like this, but it was necessary. Xavier hesitated, and sent a telepathic message to Tyler and Fenris; beyond that all he could do is hope they got it.

"What are we waiting for?" Ajax asked, whispering.

"I'm telling our friends upstairs to make an exit." Xavier whispered back. "We don't need them to fried, too." After that, he steeled himself, made ready with Celerity, and gave Ajax a sharp nod.

Ajax nodded in reply, tucked the pistol back into his waistband, and made ready with Potence. Then he kicked the wooden door in front of them in. With Celerity activated, Xavier jumped through as a hail of splinters and razor sharp shards of wood exploded into the next room.

Even as he flew into the room, he was swinging his bush hook. He caught a snake-man figure on his first swing, nearly taking its head clean off. The shower of wooden spikes helped, Xavier noted. Even with their hearts removed, even when the wood wasn't likely to hit their heart, it could still do damage; and it still provided a decent distraction. As soon as he landed, he whirled around on one foot, the hook slicing another of these creatures' mid-section just as the thing attempted to spit its venom. Xavier ignored the spray; his charm was working. The spray was about as effective being splashed with tepid water. Still in Celerity, he bashed it aside with the shaft of his hook and moved in to assist Ajax, who was caught up in a serpent's gaze. Xavier planted the hook into the Serpent-thing's back and hoisted it overhead and into the one he was just fighting. Before the Nosferatu could engage in any banter, another one leaped towards them; Ajax dropped that one with a right cross, and then grabbed its tongue as it lashed out. He yanked it out and then kicked it in the head.

One of the two that Xavier tossed together regained itself and started in towards them. It apparently had Celerity, too, because it was on top of Xavier quite suddenly; sinking its overlarge teeth into his shoulder. Yelping more in frustration than pain – it hurt, but not as much as it would have wanted it to – Xavier flipped the creature off of him and straight into one of Ajax's Potence loaded punches. The one Xavier gutted had turned itself into a snake and lunged forward. Xavier easily rolled aside, got to his feet and chopped the snake in half, turning it to ash. In his periphery, Xavier saw that Ajax managed to put his entire arm through his opponent's head. It would have been impressive if not for the fact that yet another one got the drop on him; it literally dropped from the high vaulted ceiling and landed on top of him, spraying venom onto his already mangled face. Ajax shrieked in pain as the snake-man on top of him bit into his neck. With no time to lose, Xavier rushed back and impaled the thing with his hook; the hook buried into the base of its skull. He yanked back hard, tearing its throat out. Xavier had time to ponder the fact he was referring to all the Setites as if they were even less human then himself; using terms such as 'it' rather than 'him' or 'her'. He also wondered if VV would take that as a good sign or bad; she had her own issues with the Followers, but such an attitude didn't seem to bode well in Xavier's mind.

He scanned the room quickly. There was a coffin with markings on it; they looked like hieroglyphics to him. There were also a bunch of jars lining many of the walls in this hexagon shaped room. Even with his heightened senses, he could see no hominid type forms; no serpentine forms, neither. There was definitely something in here, though. He scanned for auras, and saw what was in the jars; they were filled with hearts.

"This is the place, alright." He said. "I think we got the last of them do0wn here. All that's left is to arm that Astrolite and get out."

He reached down to help Ajax to his feet and saw that the Nosferatu didn't look so good; even for Ajax, he looked bad, and his scent was somehow off. He still reeked like he bathed in bleach, but there was something foul beneath that.

"That sonofabitch injected me with something when chomped down on me." Ajax explained before X could make a wiseass remark about 'cutting one'. "I can't move."

Xavier restrained himself from commenting how suddenly he was doing all the work as he grabbed the Astrolite and placed on top of the coffin. He looked at the arming device and quickly discerned he had no idea how it worked.

"How do you arm this damn thing?" he asked.

Ajax told him, and Xavier followed his instructions. With the timer set, Xavier turned around and dropped the hook so he could hoist Ajax over his shoulder.

"You do realize I'm telling Harpy Strauss you owe me on this, right?" He said.

"Typical Whoreador," Ajax replied, not unkindly. "As soon as the trend changes, so does your attitude."

Without another word, Xavier reactivated his Celerity and ran the both of them back out the way they came. He could only hope he gave them enough time to get out alive.

Tabetha

She could hear the faint _hiss-foosh _of the flamethrower outside. They were here. There was a chance that Marko would keep them all from even entering the building, but Tabetha doubted it; those snakes were nothing if not sneaky. In truth, she found she sort of hoped some would get past the Malkavian. She was sort of spoiling for a fight; it felt is has been centuries since she was in real battle. It only faintly occurred to her that might be the other doing the thinking.

It didn't matter; she was ready. She reached over her shoulder and drew a katana blade she honestly didn't remember having. It was as if it somehow materialized into existence. Was that the other again? Just where did his – or its – power end? Was there no end to what could be done with Thaughmetergy? Was Master Strauss holding out on her? Did he dare?

Tabetha Toussaint gave her head a shake. This was no time to start losing her concentration to the other; nor was it time to let his – let its thoughts overshadow her own. She had an idea of who it once was, but now it was something else entirely; something not even remotely human. If she was right, then there was a lot of trouble ahead; not just for Clan Tremere, but for everyone.

This was all a digression. She needed to focus on the immediate. The trouble ahead would need to be dealt with then. Out of some kind of human reflex, Tabetha took a deep breath as she watched for any sign of the Setites who might get past Marko. Much to her pleasure, the process of inhalation and exhalation seemed to help her focus.

_Hiss-foosh! _

There was nothing. Could it be that Marko was holding all of them off? It was possible, but didn't seem likely. Using her Auspex, Tabetha checked for any obfuscated forms.

She caught one just as he came out of obfuscate right on top of her, katana swinging in a downward arc. She blocked his attack barely in time, and returned a sidelong swing of her own; her quarry blocked her counter attack, held her there, and shoved her back with his right foot. Tabetha stumbled and fell on her back. The Setite switched his grip and attempted to run her through. Tabetha rolled to her left and the blade missed her by less than an inch. Taking care to avoid eye contact, Tabetha swept his legs from under him, toppling him to the floor with her. From the corner of her eye, she saw another one approaching; a female. Using Movement of the Mind, she caught her in a snare. While holding that one in place, she noted her first attacker was regaining his feet. She swung her katana and took off his head. Then she turned her attention to the ensnared Setite; Tabetha released the snare, and focused her Blood Mastery, causing the Setites' blood to begin to boil. In a matter of extremely painful seconds, the Setite died.

A third Follower of Set, previously unseen, suddenly burst into ash.

"What happened?" She heard Marko call from outside. Then he answered his own question. "They all went poof and bye-bye! The others must have broken their hearts!"

"Then it's over." Tabetha said to herself, taking down her armor.

**_Not yet; but let us see if the Prince's twin and the Seneschal can finish this... _**

Cameron

"Well, Dirty Duckling," Janette said in that taunting tone of hers. "Why is it you were so eager to have me all to yourself? Do I sometimes pogo stick into your dreams wearing nothing but a smile? Or is it me you see when playing with your new ancient friend in the rose bushes? Be honest now; or don't. Either way I will know."

Cameron Hastings grinned sardonically, hoping the Malkavian would miss the accuracy of her statement if he could just cover his shock with enough contempt. He was also counting on being honest enough with her and not necessarily denying any of it.

"That isn't why, Janette." He replied. "My reasons have nothing to do with any of that nonsense. What I wanted from you was a chance to speak in confidence about your sister."

That seemed to catch her interest. "What about her?" Janette's tone suddenly changed; now she was putting on an innocently inviting act. "Are you looking for some kind of kink to get past her frosty exterior and through to her posterior? Better than you have tried and died in their efforts, Dirty Duckling. If you're lucky, you might end up an undead version of her pet blood banker."

"No, nothing like that," Cameron answered, struggling to keep his patience. "If you could just stay focused and not interrupt me..."

"I'm not just a pretty faces bimbo, you know!" she whimpered. "You can't talk down to me like that. I know what you're after. You want to try to get me to reveal some dirty dirt on her so you can put a leash on her. Well, whatever disagreements Therese and I may have, she's still my sister and I won't help you with anything like that!"

"Actually," Cameron retorted. "I don't need that; I already have that, as I'm sure you are well aware. What I'm wondering about her really does concern you as well. What I'm kind of curious to know is just how much of her activities do you see from your side of the mirror?"

Janette laughed nervously. "What are you talking about, Duckling?" She asked, clearly trying to bluff her way out of the conversation by pleading ignorance.

_Now the tables are turned. _Cameron snorted. "Don't try to play dumb with me, dear. In fact, right now, you don't have to tell me anything. I know enough as it is." He paused just long enough to create the effect that the subject was done. "Just one thing; what would happen if her highness were to suddenly realize that you and she are one and the same?"

Janette opened her mouth, and then snapped it shut again. The tone in her body language became stiff and sincere; _almost _as stiff as Therese – like a very convincing imitation.

"That would be a cat acts trophy," she answered in a manner uncharacteristically serious to her. "Not just for her, or me, or even you; it would spell the end of everybody. Undead headlines would finish with the phrase '...before turning the gun on herself.'"

"I see." Cameron nodded. Her response was dramatic and unlikely, but he surmised that she believed it to be as true as anything can be with her Clan. "Then I suppose it's best we keep that knowledge from her, isn't it?"

Janette nodded in agreement.

"Well then I can assure you she won't find out from me; and there is no need to tell Harpy Strauss either." Cameron Hastings continued. "Make no mistake, though, my silence on the matter isn't free. I understand you have Bertram on something of a leash. For my silence, I may need to call on you to allow me use of that particular leash."

"That's very Ventrue of you, Hastings!"

Cameron and Janette turned and saw Alejandro standing there in the room with them. For a split second Cameron was concerned that the Setite Priest may have heard too much; and then it occurred to him it didn't really matter what Alejandro heard. He would be reduced to nothing before the night was out.

"I must admit," the Setite said. "Your treachery and sense of subterfuge is really rather admirable. It's just too bad that you overlooked one little detail; I still have this." He produced a clay jar. "Your life is in my hands, Ventrue."

Cameron produced a clay jar of his own. "If that is so, then we have each other in lock step, don't we?" He countered. "Isn't that why you're here in the first place?"

"It would appear so, yes." Alejandro agreed. "I do believe the objective was a trade, and then we each go about our own affairs."

Janette laughed humorlessly. "Just which side of your forked tongue are speaking out of?" She challenged. She was about to say something else until Alejandro gazed at her; she froze as he held her rapt in his serpentine eyes. That meant his attention was off of Cameron; that was his mistake. Concealed under the boards which held up the cauldron, Cameron had a revolver. He stooped to snatch it up, trained it on Alejandro's head and fired once. The shot hit squarely in the side of the Setite's head; knocking his gaze off just enough to break his gaze on Janette. This gave her just the opening she needed.

"Now, old darkling, it's time I showed you the light." She said, blowing him a kiss. Alejandro healed the wound Cameron caused, but suddenly fell down again, dropping his jar to shield his eyes; shrieking about the intense brightness of the room.

The brightest thing in the room was the flames in the cauldron.

Just as Cameron was about to nonchalantly saunter to where Alejandro's jar had rolled after he dropped it, a pair of snake men leapt from the shadows; one attacked him and the other Janette. Before he could get a shot off, his attacker was on him, pinning him to the floor and knocking his jar from his grip. The jar rolled to the same place as the one Alejandro had brought. The thing reared its head back and extended its fangs, an ink-like substance dripped from the fangs and onto the material of the suit he wore; burning a hole into like some kind of acid. Before it could strike into his flesh, Cameron monkey flipped it off of him. The thing lithely twisted itself to land on its feet, just inches away from the caldron. Cameron had regained his own feet and charged, hoping to ram it so it would stumble into the flames.

No such luck; the thing swatted him away with a contemptuous left handed backhand strike. Cameron went flying, activating his fortitude just in time to take the brunt of the impact as he smashed into the wall and toppled down, sending both of the clay jars clattering into the shadows of the room. He heard Janette squeal; uncertain if it was pain or pleasure or somehow a bit of both; with her it was impossible to tell. Taking a sidelong glance, he saw that the thing that attacked her had its teeth buried deep into her shoulder; no doubt filling her with the same kind of acid his attacker tried to with him. A plank of wall fell next to him. More worried about Janette 'telling Therese' that he allowed her to get hurt than the fact that Janette got hurt, Cameron plucked the plank up and ran to where they were. He cranked the plank over the back of the thing's back, breaking the plank.

It was enough to get its attention. The thing looked up at him, hissed, and leaped at him. Cameron tried to sidestep the attack, but found himself pinned again. This time the thing reared its hooded head and prepared to spit its venom...

And then two things happened. First – or at least he thought it was first, the timing was so close it was hard to tell – he heard the report of his revolver. Second, the thing above him crumbled into ashes and dust. Covered in a blanket of his opponents' remains, Cameron jumped to his feet to see Janette holding his revolver, still trained to a spot where a pile of ashes remained. The look on her face was one of shock and dismay.

"Janette, it's over." He said calmly as he extended his hands and slowly approached her. "You're alright. Hand me the gun." He was about to activate his Presence when he was interrupted.

"You're right, Mr. Hastings." Alejandro chuckled; apparently he had gotten past whatever Janette had done to him enough to collect himself and both of the jars. He was standing near enough to the cauldron that he could easily toss them in. "This game is over. I can feel the heat of this flame despite the light. Stand down, the both of you, unless you want me to burn your heart to ash as your friends have no doubt done to my home. And turn off the lights."

Janette pivoted and trained the gun at Alejandro.

"No, Janette!" Cameron shouted. "If you shoot him he'll toss the jar in on reflex. Do as he says."

Janette lowered the gun. Alejandro sighed in relief.

"Thank you," he said. "Now I will have to rebuild, but still I have won this night. My heart is where it belongs – more or less - and I still own you..."

An arc of white lightning blazed the air over their heads, striking Alejandro square between the eyes. In response to the sudden electrocution, the Setite first froze, and then jittered uncontrollably. Before the jars he held fell to the floor, they became suspended less than an inch from the floor and floated towards Cameron, landing gently at his feet. Once the lightning had run its course, Alejandro mumbled something incomprehensible and fell onto his face, stunned and immobile.

"Thank you Tabetha." Cameron said, not bothering to look over his shoulder. I will be sure that Harpy Strauss awards you the proper status you have earned in Prince Therese's court of Los Angeles."

Tabetha drifted into the chamber. In his periphery, Cameron noted that she literally drifted in; her feet were not touching the floor.

"You might want to wait before thanking me, Seneschal." She said in a manner as cold as Strauss ever spoke in. "It has occurred to me that your true loyalties are most certainly in question."

Cameron Hastings turned slowly, looking to the ceiling in exasperation. Holding his palms face up, he slowly lowered his head to face Tabetha. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" He challenged.

"I would put nothing past these snakes." Tabetha replied.

"What, then," Cameron guffawed, "do you think this is all some elaborate scheme to win your trust? Surely you're joking."

"Pretend I'm from Missouri," Tabetha insisted, some warmth returning to her voice. "Show me."

Marko appeared just inside the chamber portal, flamethrower trained on Cameron. Tabetha raised an arm to stop him short. "Not yet, Marko," she said with icy calm. "This is his trial. We don't execute without a trial."

Alejandro was beginning to regain his senses. Janette was right then skipping backwards away from him; her pigtails flopping jubilantly as she bobbed her head side to side with her trademark lunatic nympho grin somehow stretching past her ears.

"What's the meaning of this?" Cameron demanded. "Do you think for one instant that her highness will approve of this level of mutiny and insubordination in her Court?"

"She already has, Lord Hastings." Marko said. "The Dark Daughter directs this scene."

Cameron shifted his attention to Marko; trying to decide if he was bluffing. Given the Malkavians' very nature, it was impossible to tell. Finally he shrugged.

"It doesn't really matter, anyway. What must I do to pass this trial?" He caught himself just in time to avoid calling the trial ridiculous. If this was Therese's work, just make sure he knew who was in charge, then it wouldn't do have her lackeys report his ridicule of her nonsensical ways to her.

Janette pointed playfully at Alejandro. "Finish him." She giggled.

That was easy enough. Cameron had every intention of doing so, anyway. Crouching, he picked up the jar with Alejandro's heart in it; noting that the second jar did not have his heart in it. It was a human heart in that one. _There are no depths..._

"Wait," Alejandro called, clearly getting desperate. "The jar I brought is not your heart, but I know where it is. Spare me, and I'll take you to it."

Cameron glanced at Tabetha; the only one in the room sane enough for him to trust her judgement.

"He lies." She said with an unsettling indifference.

"I'm not." The Setite insisted. "I swear I can lead you to its exact location."

In a last ditch effort to save himself, Alejandro dove towards the cauldron as Cameron tossed the jar into it, the clay shattering as it hit the bottom.


	14. Chapter 18

Tyler

Therese stood front and centre on the stage of the Nocturne Theatre; Cameron stood about three paces behind and to her right, and behind him looking sullen stood Fenris. Three paces behind and to the left of the incumbent Prince stood –from upstage to downstage on angle from centre stage to stage left – Strauss, Velvet, and Damsel.

"If there are any objections to my claim to Praxis of the City of Los Angeles, I invite you to speak now." Therese said, holding her rifle like a staff.

Beside him in the front row, Xavier shifted his weight. To Tyler, it looked like he was doing all he could to keep quiet. Also seated in the front row were Tabetha, Marko, Imalia, one of the Gangrels that helped out at the fortress, and some Ventrue that Tyler recognized but couldn't remember the name of; he noted that she was currently doing all she could do emulate Therese in manner and dress. The seven in the front row were the ones the Clans chose to represent them in the Primogen council. Already the Ventrue were getting their noses nice and brown.

Despite the fact that he was one of the ones that actually made this happen; hoping to effect change from within, Tyler could hardly blame X for his silent objection. He was having doubts himself now. Right before the gathering, Damsel and X had a talk; she handed him something. After that, X spoke briefly to Strauss, who was with Ajax; Tyler surmised that was about the boon the Toreador had claimed on the Nosferatu. The night of the fortress siege – three nights ago – Xavier came running out of the Mansion with Ajax over his shoulders fireman style, escaping the blast zone by seconds.

"Then if there are no objections," Therese finally declared, "I claim the City of Los Angeles on behalf of the Ivory Tower of the Camarilla, naming myself as Prince. Allow me to introduce you all to my official Court..."

Fenris

Cammie stepped forward a step when 'her highness' announced his role as Seneschal, and then swore him into office. Fenris kept back where she was; she would likely not get any formal inauguration. Typically the scourge or 'hound' was actually unknown to the Court, much less introduced. These were different circumstances, though, and everybody probably knew why she was onstage at all. Tonight, her job was primarily one of security; specifically to see to the safety of the Prince. She would do that in silence and watch for any threat from as far in the background as she could dare.

Cameron proudly accepted his being sworn in, and gave syrupy salesman speech about her highness' wisdom and generosity; how he was certain now that the Kindred of LA could rest easy through the days confident in the stability and safety of the glorious Ivory Tower. The Ventrue Primogen, a Therese clone if there ever was one, applauded. Next to be inducted was Max Strauss, as Harpy. He echoed much of what the Seneschal said in his address, but with a cold efficiency that was difficult to read. Velvet's induction to the role of Keeper of Elysium was next; she said a few kind words to Therese, and then addressed the Court; she named the Nocturne, the Museum, Asylum, Yen-Zen, and Vesuvius as Elysium.

"All these locations have been so...designated," VV purred, "by her highness and me. All rules of Elysium will be upheld in these locations... at all times."

"Thank you, Keeper." Therese nodded approvingly. As she turned her head to regard Damsel, Fenris detected a hint of reluctance from the Prince. "Damsel," she said finally, "will you step forward, please?"

Damsel took a final drag from her smoke and stamped it out on the stage under the heel of her boot before stepping forward. As Therese began the induction of the new Sheriff, Fenris scanned the theatre. Beckett was gone. Fenris was neither surprised nor worried about that; she knew where he was off to, and could not fault him for having no interest in this gathering. In fact, as soon as she could get clear of her boon, Fenris had every intention of ditching LA and joining him. She also noticed that Jack was back, lingering in one of the emergency exits towards the back. Technically, he was amongst the other Brujah, but also clearly not actively a part of the gathering. When did he get back, and what was he up to?

Marko

Dam Sail didn't seem too enthused about her promotion. Marko didn't need the Network to understand why. It wasn't so much that she felt she had earned better, but more because it meant she was in the Ivory Tower lock, stock, and barrel. That couldn't sit well with a diehard Anarch like her. She didn't really offer any platitudes to the Dark Daughter- save for saying that it was well played to place her most likely opponent in a position of authority.

"When you can't beat 'em, hire 'em," Damsel said before turning to the audience.

**_Her point is well taken..._**

Beside him, Marko noticed Tabetha reacted to that too. Was she in the Network? Or was this a special channel that only he, she, and...It shared?

Marko decided his concern could wait until another night, or later on tonight. Right now was meant to be all about the dark side of Janus claiming her place in the Tower.

Ajax

For all her protestations, Damsel was fitting into her new role of Sheriff like a natural. There she was, spewing some fairly standard bullshit about being the law of this town, and how any infractions would be dealt with every ounce of authority vested into her, blah...blah...blah... It was kind of funny, really; the irony of it all. Maybe Therese knew what she was doing after all.

"...and just a quick FYI," Damsel continued, "all you Brujah mothers are now on notice. I appoint each of you into the role of on call Deputy, so you better be ready when I call on you. This mandate counts for every one of you who lives in LA, except for Tye, who will be serving as Primogen, and that's going to be enough for him to deal with."

She had that right. At the moment, Ajax had mixed feelings about Imalia being given the nod to act as Nosferatu Primogen; he felt bad that she was stuck with the job, but was relieved Bertram didn't make him do it.

"You aren't sore that I didn't assign you to the Primogen seat, are you, fledgling?" Bertram asked from the seat to his left.

"Nope," Ajax said honestly enough. "I can think of much better things to do than sit in some back room talking politics."

Bertram snickered. "That's spirit, fledgling. I got a special job for you. We're going to need eyes on the scene at each of the Elysium locations."

Ajax groaned. He supposed he should have seen this coming; he was relatively well liked- or tolerated, anyway- by the Kindred of the City in general, so it made sense that he would be the one going from Elysium to Elysium to observe and report. Barabbas would probably get play thug as needed, and Mitnick would monitor the Shreknet.

"Oh, don't worry, Ajax." Bertram added hastily. "You won't be playing Elysium all by yourself. You can think of yourself more like the Elysium quarterback. I've got one of our Clan assigned to each, and they already know to report anything juicy to you. Your job will be to coordinate your crew and keep them on task."

Actually, that didn't sound too bad. "Then I report to either you or Imalia." Ajax said, indicating he understood the assignment.

"That's what I like about you, Ajax." Bertram said. "You catch on fast; always have."

Ajax nodded in appreciation. There was something else he caught on to; that was now twice in one conversation Bertram addressed him by name rather than as 'fledgling'. Things were definitely looking up...

Xavier

Xavier Vega wondered if anyone other him caught on to what Damsel was really saying with her 'take a good look, cause you're looking at law in this town' speech. From his view in the front row, it looked to him like VV probably did. The expression on Strauss remained unmoved and unchanged; that made him harder to read than Ajax. Both Therese and Cameron looked like they missed it completely; albeit for different reasons. Cameron looked like he was delighted to see the Brujah squirm in an effort to conform to Camarilla brand of order, and Therese looked wary. She even went so far as to glance back at Fenris; that glance spoke volumes. 'Watch this one closely' it said at its core. Fenris responded with a tiny nod. Tyler, beside him, was doing his best to be as blank as Strauss and failing miserably. The tension in his face was clearly suppressing a grin; like he was in on something. Marko shot a glance at Tabetha. He seemed lost in his own little world. Tabetha was doing a much better job at hiding her thoughts than Tyler was. One thing was evident; she was distracted. The other two Primogen were unfamiliar to X; he didn't know them well enough to read them with any certainty. Ajax was outside of his line of sight.

For his own part, Xavier heard that Damsel and her Brujah were more than enforcers for the Prince; if she was going to be Sheriff, everyone will be held accountable to the Law, especially the Prince herself. There would be no bribes, no favorites, and no special treatment. All would be treated equally; none are bigger than the spirit of the law. For his part, Xavier admired that. While it might have made some of the other Kindred blink and worry, it actually encouraged him; it indicated that Damsel had no intention of letting anyone, even the Prince, run roughshod over Los Angeles.

That thought put him at ease a little. Perhaps he didn't make a mistake helping this get set up after all. What also helped was the envelope Damsel handed him before the Gathering. Inside the envelope was a thumbdrive. On that thumbdrive, Damsel said, was maybe a way out if they needed it.

"Jack picked it up in Sacramento," she explained. "It's a long shot venture, but even a long shot is better than no shot at all. Just take a look at it, and if you like what you see, show it to Tye before you show it to anyone else."

When he asked why she wasn't giving it to Tyler, she told him partly because Jack is still a little pissed at Tyler for opening a way in for the Cammies. Xavier thought, correctly, it was best to leave it at that for now.

Damsel was finished her speech on stage, and now Therese was inviting the Primogen Council to stand and be recognized. Xavier Vega stood up with the other six Kindred in the front row.

Tabetha

One by one, the Primogen Council were called up to the stage to face the Prince.

"For the Court, please state your name and Clan."

"My name is Tyler DeFaulte, Clan Brujah."

"Do you, Tyler DeFaulte of Clan Brujah swear your allegiance to the Camarilla and to this Court?"

"I do."

So went the line of questioning to be sworn into the office of Primogen; to Tabetha it was a weird mix of being sworn in by a judge and being inaugurated into the office of President of the United States of America. While the level Therese was doing this seemed excessive, Tabetha did understand the necessity of it. It was plausible that Therese Vooreman might make an adequate Prince, after all.

She caught on that the name of the Gangrel Primogen was Mike "just Mike" before her thoughts began to wander. She recalled how Marko shot her a glance right as the one she called the 'Other' validated Damsel's point about hiring those you cannot beat. It was if he heard it, too. Was it somehow connected to what Marko called 'the Network'? (She had no idea how she knew that, she simply did know). Or was it just the Malkavian habit of having insights that other Kindred lacked for some reason? Maybe it was something else altogether; could have something to do with whatever she did to him back at the Chantry? Did the 'Other' manifest itself into him as it had done to her? Was it spreading like some kind of virus?

"Tabetha," X whispered in her ear as he passed by her, returning to his seat. "It's your turn."

Tabetha Toussaint climbed the steps to the stage and answered Therese's questions. Now it was official; she was the recognized Primogen of Clan Tremere, Los Angeles.

Finally the incumbent Ventrue Primogen climbed the steps; it occurred to Tabetha that the climbing of the steps was allegorical of climbing the stairs of the Ivory Tower. She also couldn't help but notice the woman climbing the stairs right now bore a striking resemblance to Therese; so much so that Tabetha entertained the idea that she might be Janette in disguise. No, she decided. There was no way Janette could stay that still.

Danielle DeVries, Clan Ventrue got sworn in; the whole time using a sales technique known as mirroring on the Prince. She did it well, which was no surprise. She was a Ventrue, after all, and chosen by her Clan to be of the Clan for her success as a fashion designer. What was really quite ironic was that Therese was wearing a DeVries power 'for her' suit.

As Therese made her final remarks for the Gathering, Tabetha allowed her thoughts to wander once again to explore her 'virus' theory. If it was behaving like a virus rather than a possession – and who's really to say possession isn't a virus infection – then maybe it could be contained like one.

The real question to be asked was whether or not she wanted to.

Cameron

As the gathering began to disperse, Cameron Hastings hoped he appeared more confident and comfortable with everything than he actually felt. On the surface, he had every reason to be riding high, despite a few fairly minor setbacks. The Camarilla was triumphant at last in the city of Los Angeles, and because of him the Ventrue Clan was in a very good position under a surprisingly competent Prince. It was true that despite his successes, it appeared the Hastings family had cut him off; under the command of Ezekiel Hastings. Cameron had no clear idea why – though he suspected the Toreador Xavier Vega had something to do with it after his little sojourn into San Francisco – and he didn't really care. Daniel Hastings of Vancouver had cut himself from the Dynasty, and there was a good chance Cameron could reach out to him. Other than Xavier, the Primogen Council was very much ideal for his purposes. Mitnick would have better for him with the Nosferatu, but Imalia would do just fine. Even Damsel was playing her part perfectly whether she realized it or not. She was meant to be a point of balance in the event that Therese (or Janette, for that matter) got ahead of herself. On top of all that, he had Kaila; who had managed to steal his conspicuously absent heart. He should be ecstatic; but his heart was not into it.

_How poetic is that? I'm starting to sound like Vega, or maybe Oxford. _

That was the point, though. His heart was not into it, and that was quite the literal statement. He still had no idea where Alejandro had hidden it, or if even had it anymore. As he stepped out the back exit and strode down the alley to the street, he quietly cursed himself for not forcing Alejandro to tell him before he killed that Setite bastard. Yes, Alejandro was destroyed; three of the four Kindred present tonight could attest to that. Still, in a perverse way, Alejandro won; at least for the time being. At the moment, Cameron was still at the mercy of whatever remnant of the Followers of Set there were in the city.

As much as he wanted to spend the rest of the night with Kaila, he had business to attend to; first and foremost, he needed to assess what assets he had available to rectify his dilemma. Damsel and her Brujah police force should have been the obvious place to turn; but no, he had no doubt she would make him pay through the nose if he enlisted her help. Tabetha was also out; she was certainly capable, but lately she seemed off her game. He could try the Nosferatu; he already had an in with them, and if need be he could use Janette's 'leash'. Another option might be the Gangrel hound; he certainly could think of one thing to offer her in exchange.

He had much to consider this night. But first there was a simple matter to deal with. It was time that Ezra got that promotion...


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

Jack

Stepping out of the Nocturne before anyone else, 'Smiling' Jack stomped his stogie out and started to make his way towards the Last Round. He figured Tyler would be too busy with his new 'Primogen' crap to go there. He might go to his little office over at Confession to take care of all the important business of rearranging the furniture on the Titanic. There was a chance Damsel might show up as part of some first patrol, but he was okay with her. In a way, he sort of respected her approach to her new job; the whole 'I will take shit from absolutely nobody' deal meant not even the Queen Bitch herself would be seen as above the law. Her Highness the Prince made no objection, so now it was pretty much set, or so it would seem.

He handed off that thumbdrive he had in mind when he took off for Sacramento to Damsel. It wasn't the best deal in the world, but it was a hell of a lot better than this Cammie crap. On it a group from the Movement up in Canada were playing it out a little differently. Instead of fighting the Cammies outright or trying to play nice within the Ivory Tower to change it from within, they were trying to set up their own structure in a whole new frontier. Jack had his doubts it would work, but he had to respect the kids who had the balls to give it a go. Hell, maybe he was wrong; word had it that they were actually pulling it off and that this Libertarian Republic thing was starting to gain traction. Maybe if they got some folks outside of their little Valley building on the same thing...

Hell, even if it didn't work, it would be fun to watch the Cammies go all apeshit about it; especially if they got wind that the whole concept was started by a Caitiff. That thought alone was enough to make Jack laugh long and loud.

Therese

Once they had returned to the Asylum, Prince Therese dismissed her Gangrel to go track the activities of Sheriff Damsel; the Brujah all but confessed to be looking for any reason to attempt an uprising. She did it all legally, that was true, but since ensuring her safety was the primary job Fenris was given, it only made sense to have a potential threat watched in case that threat was already putting her pieces in place. With Fenris gone, Therese stepped into the Club and headed straight for the elevator which would take her to the private suite she shared with her twin sister. As Janette was not at the gathering, Therese could only hope she was here in the club somewhere and not off in some corner of the city plotting to ruin her victory. No; this was _their _victory. If she was in the building, there was no doubt she saw her enter, and would be up shortly.

In the suite now, Therese decided to draw a bath to make the triumph of her plan to take the city complete. The water running at precisely the right temperature, she sat in front of the mirror on her pristine side of the suite to get herself ready for some well earned pampering. No sooner than she sat down did she see Janette had indeed followed her into the suite, and was, as usual, standing behind her in the mirror.

"I trust everything downstairs is in order, Janette?" Therese asked.

"Of course it is, Therese." Janette replied. "You might find this hard to accept, but I am not completely incompetent. This Club is just as much mine as it is yours, you know."

"I know that." Therese said, hoping to soothe her sister and her apparent defensiveness. "You might find this hard to accept, but not everything I say is an attack. It's just that I missed you at the inauguration. That's all."

Janette said nothing to that; she only grinned that grin of hers that often hinted that she was about to spring one of her pranks again.

"It might please you to know that Miss Velour named Asylum an Elysium location. Maybe you will be able to make it Gatherings more often."

"And take away from your spotlight? I wouldn't dream of it, dear sister. Politics are your game, highness. In fact, I was thinking that maybe I would act as a sort of stand in on your behalf at the Gatherings that are more party centred. The Duckling can take care of the dirty work on those nights. Meanwhile, I can work the crowd..."

"...and find out who's loyal and who is not." Therese finished the thought. They had always been able to do that; even when they were both still mortal. There was some comfort in that. That told Therese there was still some level of synergy between them. "That's not a bad idea, actually."

Ready for her bath, Therese stood up and made her way to the bathtub. "I have Fenris monitoring Sheriff Damsel as we speak." She explained. "I'm going to soak for awhile. You go and do as you will." She sat herself in the water; allowing the warmth to overwhelm her. It was a simple pleasure, but one she savored.

"I was hoping to go see the Kitten for awhile." Janette announced. It appeared Janette had a desire to pursue pleasures of her own. Therese closed her eyes and allowed herself to relish the warm embrace of the bath.

"That will be fine," she said indifferently, closing her eyes...

Janette

The mirror turned, and Janette took the Body. Stepping out of the tub and draining it, she toweled herself off and skipped to her comfy side of the suite, taking care to avoid the mirrors so as to not wake Therese. She could do without the makeup tonight, and the outfit she had in mind was simple enough she wouldn't have to check it.

She didn't actually lie to Therese; she was planning on seeing Kitten. Was it her fault if Therese assumed it was for love and games, even if it wasn't this time? Well... not yet, anyway; maybe after. There was something more important to attend to first. It seemed Marko was growing a new breed of kitten inside him; and the new kitty was all kinds of bad.

Janette knew a thing or two about bad kitties; she shared the Body with one. Marko would need all the help he could get if he wanted to keep his bad kitty. If he wanted it gone, he'd need help with that, too. Tonight was the night to start getting that litter box cleaned up, she decided. She would go to his apartment, and then take him to Chinatown to talk to the Ox in the box.

Knox

There was some kid of power shift in the Vampire Club; Knox Harrington already knew that. He just had no idea just how big that shift was. According to Mercurio – who really was the best guy he knew who could still see daylight – his master, Cameron the Ventrue, was now the number two guy on the scene in the whole city. The way Knox remembered, being that close to someone this high and even higher in Tower was nothing new to Mercurio; his former master was the number one guy before his downtown skyscraper blew up. Still, from the sound of it, a lot of the super seven got big promotions, and that was awesome!

Knox just got back from talking to his Master, Bertram Tung. According to him, the former Baroness of Santa Monica really was the Queen Bitch of Los Angeles. That was a kind of a scary thought; that meant that creep Vandal might get a lot more stroke in the city than he already had. Of course, it also meant that Therese's sister might get to throw even better parties now, and that thought almost made Knox's head explode.

Knox stopped himself and took a deep breath. Bertram gave him a long term assignment that would require his full time attention. The good part of that deal was it was a dayshift job for once. The way Bertram told him was this: The new Prince assigned one of the other older Vampires to keep and maintain what was basically 'Vampire holy ground' at a number of different sites around the city. He had a Nosferatu agent at each one at night, and had Ajax watching over all of them for secrets and information. His job, Bertram said, would be to monitor these holy grounds during the day; track who comes and goes and does what under the cover of daylight. Every sunset, he would report what he saw to Ajax, and he would check in with Ajax just before sunrise.

Even though the bumbling fool routine was an act, right about now it was hard for Knox to restrain himself. If he was right about what he thought was going on, this was a test. If he did this right and made sure nobody who wasn't supposed to know found out what he was doing, there was a good chance he would get chosen to be a Nosferatu soon.

"Aw, man," he exclaimed once he sure he wouldn't draw any attention in the busy Asylum. "This is totally awesome!"

Velvet

This was going bad already. Therese Vooreman, the new Prince, was already starting to look and sound like a despot; the type of ruler who enforces her reign from the barrel of gun. Velvet had a very bad feeling about the direction this City was going in. It would seem the Setites made their mark once again. She could only hope now that her allies in the Primogen Council, Max, and Damsel could keep Therese in check. And that wasn't all.

The events of the past few nights clearly had an effect on Xavier; not a good one, either. Much of the work they done to restore his humanity was nearly completely undone, and now she wasn't sure if the damage could be undone a second time. But that would have to wait; at least for now.

Sitting at her terminal in her private room at Vesuvius, she reviewed the information that Damsel passed off to him. It was a novel idea; turning a number of Free States into a Republic. Each State would be completely autonomous and networked together to help one other on matters that affect the whole. Since each is autonomous, there is no one person or institution that is in authority. All serve, and none really govern.

The problem was the source; somebody she never heard of from the Fraser Valley. Something about him just didn't seem quite right. Xavier wanted to check it out deeper; apparently Damsel got it from Jack, and in Damsels' mind that meant the intelligence behind it had to be solid. Velvet wasn't quite so certain. Still, it was best to have the option open in case they needed it. Velvet would let Xavier check it out, but she would be watching this matter very carefully.

Strauss

Now fully healed, Maximillian Strauss stood alone in his parlor. The Seven had contacted him; demanding a report. As Regent of the Tremere in California it was his duty to respond.

"The Ivory Tower has been resurrected in Los Angeles." The Regent reported. "We are now under the Praxis of Therese Vooreman of Clan Malkavian. She has sworn me in as her Harpy, and already Camarilla economy has begun to grow here."

_"That is good news, Regent Strauss." _The Seven responded. _"Does the Clan have a representative on the Primogen Council?" _

"We do." Strauss replied. "Our member on the Primogen Council is Tabetha Toussaint. Before you object, I realize she is young yet. However, in a very short time she has displayed a level of competence that is rare, and it would be a mistake not to put her skills to optimal use."

There was a silence; from his end of the telepathic link Strauss knew the Seven were discussing something, likely his choice of Primogen.

_"And what news is there of her...condition?" _

"She has a theory. Based on recent developments, she believes her condition might be similar in behavior to a virus, and therefore it might be possible to treat in a manner that matches one."

_"What developments" _they demanded.

"Following an attack on another Kindred, one not of our Clan, this other Kindred is showing symptoms similar to hers. This new patient is a Malkavian, so it is difficult to tell for certain if her theory holds much merit. Knowing the status of our Founder where you are will be helpful."

_"He's awake and aware, though still in his cocoon-like state. What you say about a Malkavian factor fits with his sporadically irrational thought patterns. What has she done?"_

"I am not quite certain." Strauss answered. "Whatever our Founder is becoming has developed a distinct hostility towards us, who represent his former form. Using her as a vehicle, he attacked me, and the Malkavian was injured in his attempt to defend me; it would appear as if our founder can now travel from one vessel to another, and leaves fragments of his consciousness behind when he does this."

_"She cannot control her affliction, and you made her Primogen? What were you thinking?" _

"That she learns best under pressure. The challenge of being on the Primogen Council will help keep her mind focused, and she will use that focus to keep her affliction in check while we, as a Clan, work towards a better understanding of it and whether or not we can use it for our betterment."

_"Very well," _The Seven allowed. _"Explore this virus theory; keep us informed on your progress and hers."_

"It will be done."

The link was severed.

It was not said, but Strauss had no doubt that like him, the Seven had to concerns; first that young Tabetha may grow to enjoy her sudden growth in power and would become unwilling to part with it as she gains better control over it, and second that what she going through now is a sign of what will become of all the Clan –perhaps even all Kindred – and an early peek into whatever it is that the Founder is becoming.

Khemintiri

Once the cab came to a full stop in front of the house in the Hollywood hills, the young, petite and ridiculously attractive woman with Raven hair and green eyes stepped out of the back seat and dismissed the driver; who drove away, convinced that the beauty had paid him in full and gave him a generous tip. Of course, Kaila had not paid a single dime for the trip, but then perception and memory were everything.

Before tapping gently on the front door, she undid her obfuscate, which only changed her features in the most subtle of ways; most notably her eyes. They went from emerald green to serpentine. The door opened, and a well dressed ghoul greeted her. This was a ghoul she recognized as Dr. Neil Barrett's first; almost as old as the doctor himself.

"Mistress," he said in the old language. "It is so good of you to come to us; please, come in."

"Thank you Amos," she replied using the same language as she stepped through the door. She had to admit, she liked this ghoul very much. Her child chose him very well. "I trust the doctor is in?"

"Yes, he is." Amos confirmed in English. "He is in his study. Shall I announce your arrival?"

Khemintiri smiled. "That won't be necessary, Amos. I'm sure you have a lot to do before you and he depart. I'll just pop in on him."

"Very good, mistress" Amos bowed deeply as he marched down the hall and turned left. Khemintiri made her way to the good doctors' study, knowing full well that he was expecting her. Of all her children, he was by far and wide her favorite. He had never failed her, and was most certainly the most loyal to her. He was even willing to sacrifice a very lucrative affair when he allowed his little heroin shop to get burned down so she could gain access into the local Kindred court and make her impression upon the Neonate Ventrue. Barrett's sacrifice made it possible for her to set up the destruction of Alejandro and facilitate a means by which she could taint the nascent Los Angeles Court indefinitely.

When she got to the study, she found she was right, of course. Neil was indeed waiting for her; attending to some paper, the clay jar with the Ventrue's heart inside sitting in front of him on the desk.

"You're right on time, Mother." He said, putting down the pen he was holding and standing up to greet her. He handed her the jar. She took it, opened it, and then bit her wrist to allow her vitae to pour onto the heart sitting inside; just one more dose was needed to ensure the Seneschal of Los Angeles was hers forever. That detail taken care of, she set the jar back down on the desk. Now there were just a few more details to check on. She knew there really was little need, but she hadn't avoided capture for as long as she had by being careless.

"So are you ready to take you leave, Neil?" She asked.

"Yes, Mother" her child confirmed. "I will be leaving for our holdings in Hope by sunset tomorrow. My man there has everything prepared; including setting his interests in this city into motion."

Khemintiri nodded. "Excellent; now tell me about the Archeologist who saw me at Alejandro's stronghold."

"He has gone." Neil answered. "While he was quite aware that the sarcophagus that Alejandro fabricated was a fake and not your father's, he is either oblivious or indifferent about your identity or operations. All intelligence indicates he was last seen in Oregon; most likely to seek out what we left in the Gorge for him to find."

That was very good. The Gangrel Beckett was independent of any of the sects, so was likely to remain neutral in regards to anything that anything to with the Jihad. He was also very old, however, and certainly no fool. Handling him was delicate work.

"Do I need to ask if our agents there are keeping watch?"

"If you didn't ask," Neil replied, "I would start to have doubts that you are indeed my Mother. Yes, our agents are in place."

So far, everything was perfect.

"One last, crucial thing; tell me about the Alastor."

"He was recently seen in Vancouver."

Khemintiri didn't like that so much; he was only two steps behind her now, and that was a little bit too close for comfort. There were far too many tight networks between Vancouver and Los Angeles, including within his own Clan. The odds of him being able to trace her path straight to LA and bypassing the step in between were high. She would have to move quickly if she wanted to avoid confronting him. Also, she would be wise to make preparations in case she did have to deal with him directly; this one was sharp for one so young. If her sources were correct, then he was practically still warm from his mortal existence. How he rose in rank within the Tower so quickly was a fascinating mystery.

"He's getting too close." She said plainly. "As little as I like to admit it, this one has earned a degree of respect; quite the worthy adversary. I might even regret having to remove him."

"I agree." Neil agreed. "Still, we do what is necessary for the greater good."

"Yes, we do." She said. "And we ought to count our blessings. Apart from this fledgling upstart, everything is falling into place perfectly."


End file.
